


Sparks Fly

by cheekyhobbit



Series: Folklore [1]
Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, But Joey Potter never moved to Capeside as a kid, F/M, I wrote this really fast so please enjoy, Jacey - Freeform, P/Jo, Pacey and Joey meet for the first time as adults, Pacey/Joey, Poey, Set at the same time as the series finale, Some parts of seasons 1-2 are canon, Title and Chapter intros belong to Taylor Swift, You'll see what I mean, jacey au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 100,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheekyhobbit/pseuds/cheekyhobbit
Summary: What if Joey Potter had never moved to Capeside?A Dawson's Creek Pacey/Joey AU where they meet for the first time as adults (25yo).
Relationships: Joey Potter/Pacey Witter
Series: Folklore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196219
Comments: 66
Kudos: 103





	1. The Ice House

**_The way you move is like a full on rainstorm_ ** **_  
_** **_And I'm a house of cards_ **

* * *

It was a hot day, the kind of muggy summer weather that made her clothes stick to her skin and her dark hair gather in damp tendrils around her face. Joey tucked a loose strand back behind her ear as she walked along the waterfront, her flip-flops slapping against the wooden boardwalk, worn smooth from years of foot traffic. Capeside was a small town, not quite pretty enough for a postcard, not quite small enough to be quaint. If her sister hadn’t just moved here with her new husband, Joey would never have set foot in the place herself. But, here she was, on what had to be the hottest day of the summer so far, strolling around the small marina. Gulls cried overhead and a fisherman shouted to a friend, who replied with a raucous laugh. The smell of this morning’s catch drifted toward her through the warm air, and Joey wrinkled her nose and turned down a side street, seeking escape from the smell of fish. A small diner with plastic seating outside lured her towards it with the promise of air-conditioning and an ice cold drink. _The Ice House_ was painted on the wooden sign that hung over the entrance, and Joey sped up in anticipation of finding somewhere to sit for a moment, and cool down. 

At mid-afternoon, the place wasn’t exactly jumping. A few frazzled patrons sat at the outdoor tables under faded blue umbrellas, wiping their children’s sticky fingers and complaining about the heat. Joey hesitated on the threshold, wondering if she should’ve gone the other way, or should hold out for something a little more...sanitary. Illogically, she blamed Bessie. Her older sister’s husband, Bodie, had grown up here, and had wanted to move back to his hometown to have their first child. With Bessie’s due date looming, Joey had taken a sabbatical from work and come down to Cape Cod to help her sister out. But the oppressive summer heat had driven Bessie to her bed at lunchtime, and with Bodie at home with her until his evening shift started, Joey had decided to take a walk and see what Capeside had to offer.

Which was not a lot, so far as she could tell. As the baking heat drove her inside the Ice House, Joey pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and looked around. Cracked formica tables sat atop faded linoleum, with wobbly looking chairs pushed up against them. The menu was hand-scrawled on blackboards tacked to the bar, the writing barely legible and with more misspellings than she could count at a glance. A couple of teenagers were sitting at one of the tables, her bare feet slung across his lap, the lust of young love distracting them from their inauspicious surroundings. Behind the bar, a tall man was standing with his back to her, a dish towel over his shoulder as he stacked glasses into a tray. 

Joey leaned an elbow on the bar and cleared her throat to get his attention. He turned around, and as his eyes locked onto hers, Joey’s breath caught in her throat. He was tall, broad shouldered and had a bronzed tan that belied his preference for being outdoors. His clothing choices were questionable - a bright blue _Ice House_ tank paired with loud Hawaiian shorts - his hair desperately needed cutting and the half-grown stubble on his jaw looked like it had only ever been given the most cursory of trims, but he had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen, and he was staring at her with equally rapt attention. So far as she could tell, neither of them blinked for several seconds.

He spoke first. “What can I do for you?” 

As he came closer, Joey sank onto the nearest bar stool. There was something ridiculously attractive about this man - which wasn’t to say that he was profoundly good-looking, in a classical kind of way (Brad Pitt wouldn’t be feeling exactly threatened by his existence) - but for some reason her head was spinning and her knees were weak and her stomach was a riot of butterflies. _Heatstroke,_ she decided. _You’ve got heatstroke and you’re delirious._

“Uh, Diet Coke. Lots of ice.”

“Coming right up.” 

The bartender turned away from her, and Joey took a long, slow breath. His biceps flexed as he scooped the glass full of ice, and she felt increasingly light-headed. She was clearly overheated and dehydrated. Couldn’t be anything else. 

He popped a straw into the glass and slid the drink across the bar to her. “All yours.”

“Thank you.” Joey wrapped her lips around the straw and drew the cold liquid down her throat. _Oh, that was so much better._ She felt her eyelids flutter as she took a long, slow pull. When she looked up, the guy was still watching her. The blue of his tank top brought out the matching colour of his eyes, and her heartbeat quickened as his gaze locked onto hers.

“You’re not from around here.”

“No kidding.” 

She licked her lips, and saw his eyes dart down to watch the movement of her tongue. So it wasn’t just her that was feeling this heat between them. As she cooled down and quenched her thirst, she started to see him more clearly. There was a scar on his right cheek, and his hair curled around the nape of his neck. He had large work-worn hands, and wasn’t wearing any rings. Not that she was looking, or anything. 

“So what brings you to Capeside?” 

“My sister. She just moved here.” Another steady pull on the straw. The cold liquid slid down into her stomach as Joey kicked off her sandals and tucked her legs around the barstool, making herself at home. 

“Your sister?”

“Mm-hmm, Bessie Potter. Well, she _used_ to be Potter, but she got married six months ago, so now she’s technically Wells.”

Recognition crossed his face. “Bodie’s wife.”

Joey blinked in surprise. “You know Bodie?”

“Sure. He went to school with my brother. That’s the benefit of growing up in a small town. Or the downside, depending on your outlook.” Someone else came into the restaurant as he spoke, and he looked up to greet them. “Hey, Tom. The usual?” 

“You got it, Pacey.”

“Coming right up.” He grabbed a notepad and scrawled something on it, left-handed, as she twirled her straw between her fingers. 

“Pacey?” He looked up at the sound of her voice. “That’s an unusual name.”

“One of the many creative ways my parents came up with to punish me.” He shrugged. 

“Punish you for what?”

“Oh, you know. Existing.” His eyes flickered away from hers, but she didn’t miss the hurt in them. “And your name would be...?”

“Joey.”

“See, that’s much more civilised.” He held his hand out across the bar. “Nice to meet you, Joey.” 

She reached out and took his hand, smiling as she did so. His long fingers folded over hers, his hand warm against her palm, which was cold from being wrapped around the damp glass.

“You too, Pacey.” It was an unusual name, but she liked it. It was memorable. “Is that short for anything?”

“Nope. Is Joey?”

“What do you think?”

Pacey frowned. “Joanna? Jolene?” He tossed out guesses as she shook her head, smiling in amusement. “Jo-Bob? Josephine?” She nodded, and he grinned. “I knew you looked like a Jo-Bob.”

Joey laughed. “Smart ass.” 

He looked at her nearly-empty glass. “You want a refill, Josephine? It’s on the house.”

“Well, in that case.” She sucked the rest of the liquid through the straw, making loud slurping noises that made him chuckle. “Go ahead.” 

She slid her glass back over to him, and their fingers brushed against each other’s when he took it. Pacey tipped the melting ice into the sink, then replenished her beverage. 

“So, which one are you?” she asked as Tom took a seat at the other end of the bar. Pacey raised his eyebrows questioningly. “A benefit or a downside?”

He grinned. “Depends on who you ask.” He poured her refill and set it on the bar in front of her. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks.” 

“I gotta get Tom his wings. The man gets testy when he’s hungry.”

“Take your time,” Joey said, delicately taking a slow sip. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His grin broadened. “Good to know.” 

Pacey lowered the basket into the deep fryer, and wiped his forehead with the dish towel still resting on his shoulder. It had been hot enough in here before his entire body had lit itself on fire at the sight of a beautiful woman. Goddamn, she was beautiful though. He’d never seen anyone so gorgeous, not in the flesh. He might have thought he had, from a distance, or through the soft haze of a few drinks, but closer inspection had always revealed various imperfections. A crooked nose, a blemished chin, a slightly lazy eye. Not that any of those were important, or any kind of deal breaker. Not for him, anyway. But this woman, who’d just breezed into _The Ice House_ like some kind of angel on earth, was even more beautiful up close. 

He looked over his shoulder again, just to be sure that she hadn’t dropped a couple bucks on the counter and disappeared when his back was turned, but she was still there, nursing her Diet Coke and making small talk with Tom. He itched to get back out there, to listen to their conversation, add a few comments of his own. To dazzle her with his sparkling wit, to have that crooked half-smile directed towards him again, to see that knowing look in her eyes. He had the uncanny feeling that this woman, with very little effort, would be able to see right into his soul. The thought was both intoxicating and terrifying. 

It seemed to take forever for Tom’s order to cook. He’d thrown a double serving into the deep fryer in an attempt to bribe Joey to stay, and he filled a plastic basket with her food while shoving Tom’s wings and fries into a polystyrene container. Tossing a couple of packets of ketchup in after them, he put it into a plastic bag and carried the food out to Tom. 

“Order up.”

Tom dragged his eyes away from Joey for long enough to look at the bag. “I didn’t think I ordered my food to go.” 

Pacey’s voice was firm. “Pretty sure you did.”

The older man grinned, accepting the dismissal. “You owe me for this.”

Pacey tossed a paper napkin at him. “Go home to your wife, Tommy.”

“Later, loser.” To Joey, he offered a brief salute. “Nice to meet you, Joey.”

"It was nice to meet you, too.”

Tom left, and Pacey tutted as he leaned on the bar. “You shouldn’t lie to the man’s _face_ , Josephine.” 

“Don’t presume to know when I’m lying,” she countered. “You hardly know me.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I know you better than you think.” 

He was bullshitting as always, turning up the charm to please the ladies. It almost always worked - they’d smile, sometimes giggle, occasionally raise their eyebrows and purse their lips, the unequivocal sign for _oh go on, then_. But Joey just rolled her eyes at him, that teasing half-smile lingering in the corner of her mouth. He wanted to lean across the bar and kiss her, to slide his tongue into that small crevasse at the edge of her soft lips, to discover all of the secrets she held. 

“Is that right?” she asked coyly, stirring the ice in her glass. “Maybe you’re right. And maybe I know you better than _you_ think.”

“I doubt it.”

“And why is that?” 

Pacey opened his arms wide. “Because _I_ am an open book. What you see is what you get.” 

“Unlike me?” Her dark eyebrows arched quizzically as she continued to challenge him. 

“Yes. You’re more of an enigma. You play your cards close to your chest. Maybe you don’t trust people too easily. Maybe you’ve been burned before.”

Joey swallowed, her eyes flickering away from his for a split second. Then she was looking at him again. “Maybe _you_ have, too,” she suggested. “Isn’t that where all this fake bravado comes from?”

“Who says it’s fake?”

“Please. Anyone with eyes can tell you’re full of sh--”

“Hey, now.” He cut her off mid-word. “This is a classy establishment. With language like that, you’ll start scaring off the customers.”

Joey looked pointedly around the empty restaurant. “Looks like I already have.” 

“Touche.” Pacey gave the bar a quick wipe with his dishtowel, then remembered the food he’d left out the back. “Wait one second.” 

He was back in moments to deposit the basket of wings in front of her. 

“I don’t remember ordering these.”

“They’re on the house. You can’t come to the Ice House and not try our buffalo wings.” He took one and bit into it, encouraging her to join him.

Her eyes narrowed. “And I definitely don’t remember offering to share.”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Then you have a shocking memory, Josephine.” 

“So it would seem.” 

She looked at the basket of food with a slight frown, and just as he was wondering suddenly if she was vegetarian - or worse, vegan - she reached over and picked up a buffalo wing. Holding it between thumb and forefinger, she bit tentatively into it. The sticky sauce coated her lips, and it was Pacey’s turn to look away, overcome with raging hormones. How was it possible for one person to be this damn sexy? He’d seen enough movies to know that there were impossibly sexy women out there, but that was with hair and makeup and perfect lighting. When his childhood friend Dawson Leery had brought his girlfriend home for Christmas last year, Pacey had had trouble matching the ordinarily pretty girl on his friend's arm to the absolute knockout he’d seen onscreen in Dawson’s last film. _Movie magic_ , Dawson had called it, rolling his eyes when Pacey had brought it up, which had led Pacey to the conclusion that women in the movies never looked so good in real life. 

Except, somehow, Joey did. In fact, she looked better. He’d never seen anyone, not even in the movies, as drop dead gorgeous as her. 

“So what are your plans tonight?” he asked her, hoping his voice sounded casual.

“Popcorn. Movie. Couch. Sister.” She punctuated each word with a lick of a finger, sticky with buffalo sauce. He should’ve handed her a napkin, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth.

“Really?”

“Really.” She looked up at him from under her eyelashes. “Why -- did you have something else in mind?”

Okay, now she was flirting with him. His head spun at the revelation that a woman that beautiful was not only sitting in front of him, but was actively flirting with him. Pacey took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts. 

“Well, there’s this carnival tonight, down by the beach. It’s a once-a-year kind of thing, a Capeside tradition. It’d be a real shame for you to miss it. Especially if you’re not in town for long.”

She ignored the probing comment. “Hmm. Cotton candy, ferris wheels, that kind of thing?”

“That’s exactly it.” His hopes rose in his chest at the interested spark in her eyes. “You in?”

Joey shook her head. “I can’t. Bessie’s two weeks off her due date, and her ankles are already the size of elephants. She’d never make it. Not even for fried dough - which is, regrettably, her one weakness.” 

“Well then it’s a good thing I wasn’t inviting _her_.”

A half-smile hovered on her lips. “I can’t ditch her for the entire evening. Not after I came all this way to spend time with her, and I’ve been here less than twenty-four hours so far. What kind of sister would that make me?”

“Bessie would understand,” he said, even though he barely knew the woman.

Joey smirked. “Believe me when I say that she would not.”

“No?” He leaned forward on the bar, his eyes on hers. They were light brown, flecked with green, sparkling with wit and energy. He could get lost in their depths. “She doesn’t want you to go out and have fun?”

“With a strange man that I just met in a bar? Definitely not.”

Pacey straightened up, mock offended. “First of all, I’m not strange. Bodie will vouch for me. Second, this isn’t a bar. It’s a restaurant.”

Joey scoffed. “Because that's so much better.” 

“What if I said please?” he attempted. 

“What if I said I have a boyfriend?”

Pacey’s confidence flickered. “That would depend on whether or not you meant it.”

She nodded, her expression sad, and his heart sank. He wasn’t really surprised, of course. A woman as gorgeous as her wasn’t likely to be walking around single. 

“Oh.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” It was mild consolation to him that she sounded like she genuinely meant it.

“That’s okay.” He straightened up with a shrug. “I can deal with rejection pretty effortlessly.” Grabbing a cloth, he wiped it over the bar, cleaning up an imaginary spill. 

“All those years of practice?” she teased. 

He nodded. “Exactly.”

Joey bit her lip and slid off the bar stool. “I should get going.”

His head snapped up. “No, really? So soon?”

“Yeah.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill, then slapped it gently onto the bar. “Thanks for the drink. And the food.”

He put his hand over the money and slid it back towards her. “All of which was on the house,” he reminded her.

She laid her hand on top of his and shook her head. “I waitressed all through college. I know what kind of money this industry pays. Consider this your tip.”

Pacey couldn’t stop staring at her hand atop his. As he closed his hand over the money, she lightly ran her fingernails across the back of his hand, sending a shiver down his spine that finished in his groin. His head snapped up and he looked her in the eyes. Joey met his gaze for a moment, then spun on her heel and started for the door.

“Joey,” he called, and she looked over her shoulder at him, backlit by the afternoon sun. Once again he was rendered breathless by her effortless natural beauty. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, or…”

She shook her head, smiling. “You didn’t. I just really have to go. And for the record, if I didn’t have a boyfriend,” she said, “I’d have loved to go to the carnival with you.”

“And here I thought you couldn’t go because of your sister.” He saw the look on her face and shook his head, smiling. “Ignore me. Have a great night. And if you’re ever wandering around Capeside again, and you find yourself in need of a refreshing Coke…”

“I’ll know where to come.” She looked around the shabby restaurant with a lifted eyebrow, then her eyes returned to him. “Goodbye, Pacey. It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too, Joey.”

She smiled once more, then turned and walked out of the Ice House. Pacey leaned the heels of his hands on the bar and dropped his head, wondering why fate seemed determined to send him constant reminders that he was never going to get what he wanted. 

  
  



	2. Fried Dough

**_You're the kind of reckless that should send me running_ ** **_  
_** **_But I kinda know that I won't get far_ **

* * *

Joey was almost asleep on the couch when the doorbell rang. Next to her, Bessie’s snores stopped abruptly. 

“What was that?” her sister asked sleepily.

“Someone’s at the door.” 

“At this hour?” Bessie wondered aloud, then gestured to Joey. “Pregnant woman the size of a house is not getting up to answer it.”

Rolling her eyes, Joey got to her feet and padded barefoot across the living room. It was almost dark outside, the daylight fading to a deep blue as the sun slowly disappeared behind the creek. She flung the door open, and stared at the young man standing in front of her.

“Hey.” Pacey smiled nervously. “Sorry to intrude, and I might be out of line here, but I was at the carnival tonight and I kept walking past the fried dough stand, and I remembered what you said about it being your sister’s weakness, so...” He held up a paper bag that was already turning transparent with grease. 

Joey just stared at him. “So you thought you’d bring her some?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Does my sister even know who you are?”

“Of course,” he bluffed. “I’m Bodie’s friend, remember?”

“Right.”

Bessie’s voice carried from the living room. “Who is it?” 

“Pacey.”

A pause. “Who?”

Joey shot him a _told-you-so_ look before she backtracked a few steps and stuck her head around the open doorway, looking at her sister sprawled on the couch. “Pacey,” she repeated.

The sound of the movie dialogue stopped as Bessie paused the DVD. “Pacey Witter?”

“Do you know _another_ Pacey?” 

“What’s he doing here?”

Joey looked back at the front door, still standing open. Pacey stood in the dim porch light, holding the bag of fried dough and looking like a lost, hopeful puppy. She wanted to laugh at him. For some reason, she also wanted to give him a hug. 

“He’s brought you something.”

“Me?” Bessie pushed herself into a sitting position, brushing potato chip crumbs off her swollen breasts. “He barely knows me.”

Joey grinned back at Pacey. “You might as well come in,” she said. “She’s too big to drag herself off the couch, so you’ll have to make your delivery in person.” 

He shut the front door behind him and followed her into the living room, his palms clammy. He was taking a risk here, overstepping the mark and possibly scaring Joey off for good. But if he didn’t try, he’d never know. And he’d wanted to see her face again, to make sure that he hadn’t just been delirious from the stifling heat and long hours at work, that he hadn’t imagined her beauty. That the whole thing hadn’t been an impossible daydream. 

He had not, and somehow she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. So beautiful that it made his knees tremble, and when she smiled at him, his heart just melted inside his chest. It still seemed too good to be true that she was here in Capeside, but he wasn’t about to start questioning fate. Not today, anyway. 

“Hey, Bessie. Your sister mentioned today that you’re a sucker for this New England staple of carnival food, so I thought I’d stop by and drop some off.” He held out the bag, glancing at Joey. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, my god.” Bessie reached out and took the paper bag, then opened it and stared at the fried dough with wide eyes. “Fried dough. I think I’m in love with you.”

Pacey’s entire face lit up with a relieved smile. 

“Back off, lady,” Joey said. “You’re married, remember?”

“Who, me?” Bessie took a bite out of the fried dough and her eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure. “This is so good.”

Joey pulled a face. “That’s disgusting.” She turned away from her sister, looking at Pacey. “But on my sister’s behalf, thank you.”

“Thank you Pacey,” Bessie repeated, her words almost incomprehensible through the mouthful of junk food.

“Eat fast, before Bodie gets home and sees you eating that crap,” Joey said. “You know how he feels about fried food poisoning your system. He’ll be calling child protective services on your unborn son.” 

Bessie shifted on the couch, and laid a hand on her stomach. “Said unborn son is currently kicking the crap out of my insides, so excuse me if I take this moment to disregard his opinion. Besides, it might be the only experience of fried dough that this little granola cruncher is ever going to get, if his father has his way.” 

Bessie rolled her eyes as she spoke, but her voice was fond. She loved Bodie dearly, Joey knew, and most of the time, she was perfectly happy to eat organic, free range food, and eschew anything deep fried or full of preservatives. Most of the time. 

“But that’s just wrong,” Pacey objected. “A childhood without fried dough? Now _that’s_ child abuse. Sounds like uncle Pacey is going to have to continue sneaking carnival food into this house after the kid is born.”

Joey snorted. “Uncle Pacey, huh?”

He shrugged, a bashful smile on his face. “Got a problem with that, Aunt Josephine?”

Bessie looked between them, amused. “If you keep bringing food like this into my house, you can be second husband Pacey for all I care.”

Joey pulled a face. “God, Bessie. You’re so easy.” She turned to Pacey. “You’d better get out of here before she hauls herself off the couch and decides to hug you or something.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Pacey said with a grin. “Have a good night, Bessie. Squirt that kid out soon, okay? I’m ready to meet him.”

“Not nearly as ready as I am.” Bessie wiped powdered sugar off her chin. “You’re my hero, Pacey Witter.”

Pacey chuckled as he followed Joey back to the front door. “Finally, a woman who appreciates me.”

“Unfortunately for you, she’s already spoken for.”

“Guess I’ll just have to move on to the younger sister,” he teased. “Kidding. You have a boyfriend.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not here to step on anyone else’s turf.”

“Sure.” She shook her head at him as he stepped back out onto the porch. She could see the lights of a ferris wheel slowly spinning in the distance. “Besides, if you’d really wanted to woo me, you would’ve brought me a caramel apple.”

“Is that what the lady wants?”

“No. It’ll rot my teeth,” she said primly, knowing that if she said she had said yes, he’d be back here in half an hour, probably with a bouquet of candy apples. “But on Bessie’s behalf, thank you.”

He smiled. “You said that already.” 

“Joey?” The call came from the living room. “Can you come here a second?”

Joey held up a finger to pause her conversation with Pacey, then hurried back to the living room. “Are you okay?’

“I’m fine.” Bessie was lying back on the couch, the bag of fried dough resting on her large belly. “I just need to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s Pacey doing here? And don’t say _bringing me fried dough._ I’ve met the guy once.”

“So have I.”

“And clearly you made a lasting impression.” Bessie narrowed her eyes. “When? How?”

“At the Ice House. This afternoon. I stopped in for a drink.”

“I didn’t know they served alcohol at midday.” 

“It was a Diet Coke.”

“He called you Josephine.”

Joey’s stomach fizzed at the memory. “Yeah, so? It _is_ my name, you know.”

“Yeah, but you don’t let anyone call you Josephine. Not since--”

Joey flushed, but she set her mouth into its habitual scowl as she interrupted. “There’s an exception to every rule, _Elizabeth_.” 

Her sister rolled her eyes. “Sure. So tell me the truth. Did he ask you out on a date?” Joey blushed, and Bessie grinned. “He did, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “But I told him I have a boyfriend.” 

“And yet he turned up anyway. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“Shame it’s not going to pay off for him.”

“Why not?” Bessie asked. “If you ask me, he’s put the leg work in.”

“I’m not going on a date with him.”

“Of course not. But you could go out with him. In the literal sense of leaving the house, and using him for company. I know how you feel about carnivals, Joey. I remember how excited you used to get whenever we went to the state fair.”

“So?”

“So, go. Have a good time.” 

“What about our sisterly bonding time?”

“Joey, I can’t keep my eyes open, and I know you hate chick flicks. Tell the truth, you’re bored out of your mind.”

Joey hesitated. Her sister knew her too well for her to bother lying. “And what about my boyfriend?” she asked.

“What about him? I thought you said this wasn’t a date.”

“It’s not.”

Bessie looked smug as she licked powdered sugar off her fingers. “So what’s the problem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter - but the next one will be longer. Much, MUCH longer.


	3. The Carnival

**_And I'm captivated by you baby_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Like a fireworks show_ **

* * *

“If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Pancakes.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“My mom’s blueberry pancakes, with maple syrup. The real stuff, not that fake maple flavoured crap.” She watched him nod, knowing what she meant. “My mom made great pancakes.” 

“Made?”

“She died when I was thirteen.”

Pacey winced as they strolled through the carnival, past the trade stalls, neither of them paying much attention to the screen-printed tees or tooled leather belts on offer. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, are you cancer?”

He frowned, confused. “Uh…no?”

“Then it wasn’t your fault. No need to apologise.” 

Pacey smiled. “That’s not really what that means, you know. I’m saying I’m sorry _for_ you.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Joey looked down at her feet. “What about your parents?”

“Where are they, or can they cook?” Pacey asked. “Because the answer to the second question is an unequivocal no.”

“No? That buffalo sauce at the Ice House isn’t a secret Witter family recipe?”

“Hell, no. The only secret recipe the Witters have is a version of chipped beef on toast that nobody in their right mind would want to eat.”

Her smile warmed his heart. “Do they live in Capeside?” she asked.

“Yeah. Well, Mom’s here. Pop died last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was a--” Pacey stopped himself before he said something he’d regret. Or that she’d regret hearing. He didn’t want to come across as an asshole. His father’s legacy shouldn’t extend that far. Or at least, she shouldn’t have to know that it did. “He wasn’t well.” It wasn’t entirely false.

Joey’s eyes narrowed slightly as she searched his face. He had the uncanny notion that she could read his mind, and knew he was lying. 

“Yeah, well my dad’s in prison,” she said. “Beat that.”

Pacey’s head felt like it literally snapped backwards. He had _not_ seen that one coming. “Uh, woah. What for?”

“Dealing drugs.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. He was never the same after Mom died.” 

She said it flippantly, but she wasn’t quite meeting his eyes, and he could tell how much it stung her to tell him this. He wanted to comfort her, to pull her into his arms and kiss her hair, to hold her tight and keep her safe. His arms ached to do it. 

Pacey shoved his hands in his pockets. “How old were you when that happened?”

“When he got arrested? Seventeen. When I found out what he was up to? Fifteen.”

“Did you ever say anything to him?”

“No.” She bit her lip, looking down again. “I just...bottled it up. You know. As you do.”

“That’s a helluva burden to carry.” 

“Don’t have to tell me that.” 

They reached the end of the row, and turned around, heading back along the other side. An artist nearby was packing paintings into the back of a van, and Joey’s footsteps slowed as they approached. It was hard to see the paintings in the fading light, but they were oils, mostly local landscapes - the marina, the creek, the lighthouse a couple towns over - with a few more abstract artworks included. 

She stopped and looked thoughtfully at a canvas mostly covered in a bright red splash of paint. Pacey thought he could probably do that himself in about five minutes flat, and chuckled at the three-hundred dollar price tag. No wonder the guy hadn’t sold it.

Just as he was thinking that, the artist in question came over to them. His grey beard reached almost to the top of his expansive stomach, and his shirt was splattered with paint. “What d’you think?” he asked Joey as she considered the artwork, her head tilted to the side. “You like that one? I can do a good deal on the price for such a beautiful woman.”

The hackles on the back of Pacey’s neck rose, but Joey answered politely. 

“No, thank you. I was just thinking that it reminds me of the paintings my mom used to do.”

“She’s an artist?”

“She was. Only as a hobby, really. She never made a living from it.”

“What about you?” the guy asked. “Are you a painter?”

“Oh, no.” Joey shook her head quickly. “Not since high school, anyway. And I wasn’t very good.”

He shrugged. “You don’t gotta be good to want to paint.” He picked up the canvas. “Sure I can’t tempt you with this? I could knock fifty bucks off it,” he offered.

She shook her head again and he took the canvas to his van as Joey started walking again. Pacey fell into step with her, their long legs matching strides effortlessly. 

“So why’d you stop painting?” he asked curiously.

“Oh, I don’t know. Art supplies are expensive, and the class was fun but it wasn’t going to get me into Yale. I had to focus more on academics if I wanted a scholarship, and I needed a full ride, so I couldn’t half-ass it and hope for the best.” 

Pacey just about fell over his own feet. “You got a scholarship to Yale?”

“Yep. Go Bulldogs.”

“Wow.” He took a few more steps. “I figured you were smart, but I didn’t think you were _that_ smart.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“You must’ve been a real nerd in high school.”

She pushed her shoulder into him, attempting to shove him off balance. Pacey blocked the manoeuvre, but grinned. 

“What were you, a high school jock?”

“Hardly. I dropped out after failing half of my junior year.” 

“Oh.”

He wished he hadn’t told her that, but now she knew. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Joey frowned. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I don’t know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I guess I wanted to impress you, that’s all.”

“Why?”

He shot her a look. “If you don’t know the answer to _that,_ then you’re not as smart as you think you are, Potter.”

They’d just turned onto the midway, and Joey blinked in the bright lights that flashed on either side of them. Carnival-goers tried their luck at the range of games on offer, and Pacey paused in front of a balloon and darts booth. 

“What d’you think?” he asked her. “You game?”

Joey raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Are you planning to wow me with your ability to pop balloons?” she asked. 

“I’m planning to try.”

She chuckled. “Pacey, look at the prizes. What am I going to do with a giant purple giraffe?” 

“Hold it every night as you think of me?” he teased, then laughed at her annoyed expression. “I’m kidding. And honestly, I’m flattered by your estimation of my skill. I was actually thinking more like I’d be lucky to earn you one of those little stuffed bears.”

“The ones holding the heart that says _I wuv you beary much_?” Joey made a gagging noise. “How would I explain that to David?”

“The elusive boyfriend? So he does have a name.”

“And a normal one, at that.”

Pacey clapped a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. “Ouch, Potter. That stings.” She grinned at him, and his heart felt like it skipped a beat. “You could tell him Bessie gave it to you,” he suggested, because he suddenly wanted nothing more than to give her one of those little bears. Or a giant purple giraffe, or the six foot long plush snake, or anything else on the wall of prizes.

“He’s met Bessie. He’s well aware that she would never even consider being that sentimental,” Joey informed him flatly. “But I’ll accept your challenge. Best of three?” 

She stepped up to the booth and reached into her pocket for some change. 

Pacey couldn’t let her pay for it. “Uh, uh. I got this.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” She pushed his hand aside and handed over her money to the man behind the booth. “I know you’re trying for chivalry, but this isn’t a date, remember?”

“Right.”

“And if I win you a prize, it won’t be much of a gift if you paid for it in the first place.”

Pacey grinned. “You’re planning on winning _me_ a prize?” he asked as he handed the game operator some money of his own.

“I’m planning to try.” She held up one of her darts and clinked it against his. “May the best shot win.”

He insisted that she take the first throw. Joey lined up a pink balloon, took aim, and released the dart. It flew through the air, hitting the balloon a little higher than she’d intended, but still popping it. 

“Nice.” Pacey squinted his eyes and took aim at a smaller, higher balloon near the top of the board. A more difficult target, but it was worth more points. His dart landed right in the middle, popping the balloon with a definitive bang. 

“Not bad.” Joey threw again, and this time her dart missed her target. “Dammit.” 

Pacey grinned as he lined up his second shot, again aiming for one of the higher, more challenging targets. Again, it hit its mark. 

“You know, I am actually a little impressed,” Joey admitted. “How’d you get so good at this?”

“Product of a misspent youth.”

Joey smirked. “Clearly. Lucky last.” She lined up her throw, and Pacey leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Aim a little lower.”

Joey’s heart had started pounding at his sudden proximity. “What?”

“You’re throwing too high.” His chin brushed against the back of her shoulder as he leaned down to her eye level, then reached around behind her and nudged her hand down slightly. “There. Try that.”

Joey’s hand was shaking. She swallowed hard, trying to collect herself. He smelled so good, like cologne and summer and something else that was just Pacey. His touch on her skin was electric. She had to make him stop before she gave into temptation and just threw herself at him.

“Pacey. I can’t throw this shot with you literally breathing down my neck.”

“Sorry.” He stepped back. “Go ahead.”

Joey stared at the orange balloon she’d selected, but her eyes refused to focus. How was this even happening? How could some guy that she’d only just met have this effect on her? What did that say about her? And worse, what did it say about her boyfriend, who she’d been with for four years and who had never, not once, made her feel this way?

 _Stop. Focus._ Joey pushed everything else out of her head, balling her emotions down deep inside herself where they belonged. She drew her hand back and threw the dart. It hit the orange balloon dead centre with a satisfying bang. 

She turned to Pacey, beaming. “I got it!”

“You sure did.” He offered her a high five. Grinning, Joey slapped it. Their fingers intertwined, and she held his hand for a moment, enjoying the way her palm tingled as it connected with his, the way his hand felt so right clasped around hers. Pacey lowered his arm, taking her hand with his, and she snatched it away. _What are you doing?_

“Your turn,” she said, her heart still struggling inside her tightening chest. 

Pacey was still staring at her, his blue eyes fixed on her face. She could feel his desire for her coming off him in waves, but it wasn’t frightening or intimidating as it so often was when men looked at her like that. With him, she felt the same way. 

“Pacey.” She slapped his arm with the back of her hand, pushing her feelings for him deep down inside herself where she could pretend they didn’t exist. “I’m getting bored here. Hurry up.”

“Oh. Right.” He turned and looked at the balloon board, his eyes narrowing. “Which one d’you reckon?”

“Aim for the yellow one. Top right.” 

He looked up at the small balloon. It was a difficult shot, but he was never one to back down from a challenge. Especially not if it came from her. 

“Yes ma’am.” He took a deep breath, composing himself, then threw the dart. It hit its target with a loud pop, and he grinned. 

“Nice throw.” The operator didn’t sound that enthused as he gestured to the space on his left. “Anything off that wall.” 

“In that case, I have no choice but to go for the oversized purple giraffe.” 

Joey shook her head. “Are you kidding me?”

“What? It’s cute.” The guy took the large stuffed animal off the wall and handed it over, still looking a bit grim. “All yours, sweetheart.”

“Gee, thanks. Just what I always wanted.” But Joey took it, and she was smiling. “I feel bad. I didn’t win you anything.”

“I’m here with you,” Pacey said. “I already won.”

Joey groaned. “You did _not_ just say that. You cheeseball.” He flashed her his most innocent grin, and she laughed. “Come on, let’s go play another game.”

Moments later, she’d bested him at quoits, and smugly handed him a small teddy bear with violently green fur and a slightly psychotic expression. 

“Wow, Jo. This is…” Pacey looked skeptically at the prize as she thrust it into his hand. “Truly the stuff of nightmares.”

“You’re welcome. Something to remind you of me.”

Pacey shoved it down his shirt, letting its demented head peek over the top. ”I’ll keep him close to my heart.”

“Ugh, gross.” She pulled a face and looked away. “Don’t make me look at it.” 

“You picked it, Joey. You brought this on yourself.”

She held up the purple giraffe and booped Pacey on the nose with it. “You’re an idiot.”

“A lovable idiot?” he asked hopefully. 

“Nope. Just an idiot.”

They grinned at each other, and that overwhelming desire to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her senseless flooded through him again. To distract himself, Pacey turned and looked out over the fairgrounds. “So, what d’you want to do next? Eat ourselves sick on junk food? Ride the Zipper?”

“That sounds like a recipe for vomit.”

“I wasn’t suggesting we do them in that order.” He wanted so badly to reach out and hold her hand. The green bear still peeked out from the v-neck of his shirt. “C’mon, ride the Zipper with me. You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Sanity. Self-preservation. An overwhelming desire _not_ to vomit.”

“C’mon, Jo. Please?” 

How could she resist those pleading eyes, that puppy dog look? “Fine. But you’re buying me a caramel apple afterwards.”

“I’ll buy you twenty.”

Joey narrowed her eyes as they made their way toward the rides. “I’m starting to think you actually _want_ to see me hurl.”

Half an hour later, they descended from the Hurricane, heads still spinning from the centrifugal force of the ride. 

“Okay, what’s next?” Pacey asked as they stepped back onto solid ground. “Hey, wait! Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, pausing at the foot of the steps where the ticket collector was standing. “Or should I say, someone?” He reclaimed the giant purple giraffe with a smile, and held it out to her. “At this point, I’m starting to feel like you’re leaving him behind on purpose.”

“Gee, whatever gave you that idea,” she deadpanned, but she took the stuffed animal and tucked it under her arm, the trace of a smile flickering across her face. 

“So, what d’you say? Mirror Maze? Frankenstein’s House of Horrors?” She shuddered, and shook her head. “What about some more carnival games?” 

“Definitely not. You’ll end up winning me something even bigger and uglier than this,” she said, glaring at the giraffe. “Hey, watch out!”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him in toward her, until his side was pressed firmly against hers. The muggy evening had finally cooled down to a more tolerable temperature, and her bare arm was clammy against his skin. 

“If you want to be closer to me, you only have to ask.”

“Loser.” She let go quickly. “I was trying to prevent you from stepping in vomit. Next time, I won’t bother.”

“Your chivalry did not go unappreciated, Josephine.” He caught her elbow in his hand and guided her around another patch of the same. “I’m starting to think that my fellow townspeople cannot hold their fried food.”

Joey smiled. “Frankly, I’m disappointed.” 

“As am I, Miss Potter.” His hand still on her elbow, Pacey steered her towards the candied apple booth. “Now, I do believe I promised you one more thing.”

“So you did.” 

They bought caramel apples, Pacey’s dipped in nuts and Joey’s plain, then continued walking as they ate the sticky food. They didn’t talk, but it didn’t matter. They could share a companionable silence without it feeling awkward. It was bizarre to Joey just how comfortable she felt with him, despite having only met him hours earlier. 

“How come I feel like I’ve known you forever?”

She jumped, his words echoing her own thoughts in an eerie way. “I was just thinking the exact same thing,” she admitted. 

“No. Really?” His grin lit her up from the inside. “What d’you think that means?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Great minds think alike?”

“Maybe.” He took another bite of his apple. It fell off the stick and rolled across the dirt at his feet. “Damn.” Pacey reached over towards Joey. “Can I have yours?’

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, please? I dropped mine, and I paid for them.”

“Oh my god, are you five?” she scowled. “You bought it for me, ergo it’s mine.”

“Just one taste?” he pleaded. He didn’t really want it, but he loved riling her up. “Pleeeeease?” 

Joey’s eyes narrowed, but she held the caramel apple out towards him. “Fine. You can have one bite.” As he opened his mouth as wide as possible and leaned in, she paused. “Wait.” She pulled it back toward her and slowly licked the caramel, then held it out again. “All yours.”

“Well now it’s covered in girl germs,” he complained. “Gross.”

“Hah.” She shot him a smug look before taking another lick of the apple. He watched her, his groin starting to ache with desire as she flattened her tongue out over the apple. “I knew that’d work.”

They kept walking through the crush of people, although there weren’t so many any more. Parents and children had mostly gone home, leaving mostly friends and lovers on the midway. A pair of teenagers locked in a passionate embrace blocked their path.

“Get a room,” Joey snarked at them as she walked past, and Pacey chuckled as he followed her. 

“Chill out, Potter. They’re just kids. Didn’t you ever do that when you were that age?”

“No.” 

“Really?”

“I was never really into public displays of affection,” she admitted. “Besides, I didn’t have a boyfriend when I was that age.”

“I find that impossible to believe.”

“Believe it.” She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I was far too busy studying, remember? I had no time to get bogged down with boyfriends.”

“You’re only supposed to have one,” he said, making her laugh. 

“What about you? I’m assuming there was a steady stream of girlfriends throughout your high school years?”

“Me? Nah.”

“Really? That surprises me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem like a romantic kind of guy, and you do know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Well thank you,” he said, sketching a quick bow and making her giggle. “There was one girl,” he admitted. “We dated in sophomore year, and I fell for her. Hard.”

Joey raised her eyebrows curiously. “So where is she now?”

“No idea.” Pacey shoved his hands back into his pockets, wishing he hadn’t brought Andie up. “Her family moved back to Providence at the end of the school year, and they never came back.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah. After that, it was just a steady stream of one-night stands and hookers.”

“Gross.” She slapped his stomach with the back of her hand. “You pervert.”

He laughed. His stomach still hummed from where she’d touched it. If he’d lifted his shirt and seen a glow on his belly, he wouldn’t have been surprised. 

They reached the end of the midway, and Joey tossed her caramel apple stick into a nearby trash can. “It’s getting late,” she mused.

“Don’t say that.” 

“Why not?”

“Because I’m having a really good time tonight, and I don’t particularly want this to end.”

“Me either, but I think we’re out of options. I mean, we’ve been on all the rides, eaten our weight in calories, played some potentially rigged fairground games and won each other completely ridiculous prizes,” she said, tucking the giraffe more securely under her arm. 

“Except for the House of Horrors, but you turn whiter than a ghost every time I even mention it, so I’m guessing that one’s off the table.”

“Unequivocally.”

“Then the way I see it, there’s only one thing left to do,” Pacey said.

Joey tilted her head up towards him, looking at him through her eyelashes. His heart stammered in his chest. “Yeah, what’s that?” 

Without breaking their gaze, he pointed over her shoulder. Joey turned, then smiled as she looked up. 

“Of course.”

The ferris wheel moved slowly through the night sky. Joey tucked the giraffe between her knees and tilted her head back, gazing upwards. 

“You can’t see them very well in Boston, you know. Too much light pollution.”

“What, the stars? Maybe you should give up your current lifestyle and move out here,” Pacey suggested lightly. 

She pulled a face. “Yeah, sure. I could give up my job and start waitressing at the Ice House for two bucks an hour.” 

“Plus tips.”

“Which I imagine would be lucrative at such a fine dining establishment,” she teased. 

“Don’t mock my place of work.”

“But it’s so easy,” she replied. “Okay, okay. I’ll be nice.” 

“What _do_ you do?” he asked her. “For a job, I mean.”

“I work in HR.”

“You went to Yale to work in HR?”

She shot him a look. “Yes, actually. I have a Law degree, specialising in Human Resource Management.”

“Sounds lucrative.”

“It is.” 

“Do you like it?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted. “But it pays the rent.”

Pacey frowned. “And you don’t mind doing a job you hate, just for the money?”

“When you grow up without enough food on the table, missing out on the things all your friends had, like family vacations and designer clothes, you make a choice. I didn’t want to be like that forever. I didn’t want to raise kids like that. So, I went for a job that would earn me a lot of money. Legally,” she added with a frown.

“You could’ve just found yourself a rich husband instead,” he said. “Seems easier.”

“What is this _instead_ you speak of?” she replied. “And why not do both?”

“Fair point.” He wanted to ask more about David, about how much money the guy was worth, to find out whether she was only with him because he represented the security that she so obviously craved, but he knew it wasn’t his place. 

“What about you?” she asked. “And don’t try telling me that working at the Ice House is your dream job. What would you be doing, if you could do anything?”

“Sailing.” Just the thought of it made his soul ache. “Being out on the open water for weeks on end. It’s the best feeling in the world.” 

“Do you have a boat?” she asked, then looked surprised when he nodded. 

“Yep. She’s just a little sailboat, but she suits me fine. I bought her and fixed her up after I got my teenage heartbreak, and she’s got me through some tough times.”

“You go sailing a lot?”

“Not lately,” he admitted. “When I was seventeen, I spent six months sailing along the eastern seaboard. Went all the way down to the Florida Keys. Picked up odd jobs along the way, enough to keep me fed and keep her in the water.” He smiled at the memories. “It was the best time of my life. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Pop got sick, so I came home, and I never really left.” He looked up at the stars as they neared the top of the ferris wheel. “Tell you what, though. The stars really are brighter down there.”

“I’d love to see them someday.”

She had her head tipped back, staring up at the night sky. She was even more beautiful in profile. Her swan-like neck arched back, and Pacey wanted to press his mouth to the pulse in her throat, to feel it pounding beneath his lips, his tongue... 

_She has a boyfriend_ , he reminded himself. He cleared his throat, and decided to change the subject. 

“It’s your turn,” he said. 

“For what?”

“To ask me anything.”

She frowned. “I wasn’t aware we were doing that.”

Pacey shrugged, leaning back against the hard seat of the ferris wheel. “Well, we could do something else.” 

A smile flickered at the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so badly it made his stomach ache. He shifted in his seat, trying to stifle the hard-on that he was rapidly gaining.

“Uh, okay.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “What's your favourite book?”

He rolled his eyes. “What makes you think I even have one?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Pacey shook his head. “I’m not much of a reader.” 

“Oh.”

He felt bad, and racked his brains for an answer. Nothing came to him, so he deflected. “What’s yours?”

“ _Little Women_. It was my mom’s favourite, and she named me after one of the characters.”

He’d seen the movie, years ago. He remembered having a crush on Winona Ryder. He looked at Joey again, and knew for certain that Winona Ryder had nothing on this woman. She was still waiting for his answer, so he gave the first one that came to mind. 

“I had to read _The Outsiders_ for school. I remember liking it.”

“It’s a good book,” she said approvingly. “A classic. You know S.E. Hinton wrote that when she was sixteen?”

He shook his head. “I can’t imagine being so motivated, especially at that age.”

“It’s not about motivation as much as passion. If you love something, it’s like a force inside you that won’t let you stop until you’ve indulged it.”

He met her eyes, staring at the perfect lines of her face. “Now that, I _can_ imagine.” 

Even in the dark, he could see her blushing. “Nice try, smart ass. Your turn.”

“Your favourite smell.”

“Pine trees on a warm day. It reminds me of the summer camp I went to in Vermont.” She smiled, her memory taking her back to that skinny girl with bruised knees and tangled hair. “I got to be myself there in a way I never did anywhere else. You?”

“Sea breeze on the open water.” 

Joey rolled her eyes. “What a cliche.”

“This coming from Miss-I-love-the-smell-of-pine-trees,” he scoffed.

“At least I didn’t say they remind me of Christmas,” she retorted. 

“Do they?” he pressed. She scowled, and he laughed. “I knew it.”

“Shut up.” She slapped his arm lightly, and Pacey’s heart lifted as the ferris wheel jolted back into motion. “It’s my turn again.”

“Hit me.”

“If you insist,” she teased, slapping his arm again, harder this time. “Okay, what’s your favourite movie?”

“ _The Shawshank Redemption_.”

Joey snorted. “Ding ding ding! That’s my bullshit meter going off.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Nope.”

“It’s a great movie.”

“Yeah, everyone likes it. It’s impossible _not_ to like it. But I don’t buy that it’s your favourite.”

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s such a cliche answer. Come on, tell me the truth. I dare you.” 

Pacey’s head was spinning, but he loved it. Nobody had challenged him like this in years. Not since Andie, and even she had never pressed him this way, trying to find out everything about him. Thinking of Andie made him think of another movie, one he’d loved since childhood. One he hadn’t seen in a really long time, not since…

“ _Dumbo_.”

Joey had been staring out over the fairgrounds. Her attention jolted back to him, her eyes wide. “What?”

“You asked my favourite movie. _Dumbo_.”

A slow smile grew across her beautiful face. He drank it in, trying to remember every detail, every shape, every shadow. 

“Why?”

“It was the first movie that made me cry.”

Joey’s smile turned sad. “Because of the part with…” She crooked one arm and rocked it back and forth, and Pacey nodded, his throat suddenly tight. “That made me cry too.” She sighed softly. “That’s a good movie. Although the part with the pink elephants scared the living daylights out of me as a kid.” 

He laughed. “Seriously?”

“Are you kidding? They’re terrifying. Almost as terrifying as _E.T._ That movie scarred me for life.”

Now Pacey was really chuckling. “Now that’s a movie I’ve seen more times than I can even begin to count.”

Joey looked horrified. “God, why?”

“Not my choice. It was my best friend’s favourite movie when we were growing up.”

“No offence Pacey, but your best friend sounds like a psychopath.” She held up a finger and pointed it toward him. “ _E.T. phone home,_ ” she intoned in her best alien voice, then shuddered. “So creepy.”

“Whatever. Your turn to answer,” he reminded her. “And you can’t say the film adaptation of _Little Women_.”

“Dang.” She snapped her fingers, feigning disappointment. “Then, obviously I'll have to say _The Shawshank Redemption_.”

Pacey frowned. “Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?”

He paused, sniffing the air thoughtfully. She did the same, confusion writ across her face. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Really? Because to me it smells a whole lot like _bullshit_.”

She laughed so hard that she snorted. “You’re a jerk.” He shrugged, giving her his best innocent puppy smile, and she grinned. “Okay, fine. _Some Kind of Wonderful._ ”

Pacey thought for a moment. “The one with Eric Stoltz?”

“Yeah. You know, _You break his heart, I’ll break your face_?”

“Words to live by.”

“You know it.”

“I think I remember that movie. The guy has a female best friend who’s in love with him, but he doesn't see it, and falls for someone else.”

“That’s the one.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why, but it always kind of resonated with me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being dumb enough not to fall in love with you.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. But she didn’t pull away, or make a snarky comment. She just looked at him, as if maybe she felt it too. “Okay, my turn.” He stretched his legs, dangling his ankles over the edge of the seat. Their chair was nearly at the top of the ferris wheel. “What’s your greatest fear?”

“Oh, wow. You’re bringing out the big guns, now.”

“Honeymoon’s over, sweetheart.” He felt his skin heat up as she turned her head and gave him a searching look, wondering if he'd overstepped his bounds by using that word. “So? You gonna answer?”

“I’m not sure yet, but if yours isn’t being pushed off the ferris wheel for asking impertinent questions of a woman already spoken-for, then you should probably reevaluate your choices.”

The sarcasm was back. He reached over and took her hand, holding it lightly in his. He stroked the back of her fingers with his thumb, and felt her shiver. “Spoken for, huh? I don’t see a ring.”

“Maybe you’re not looking closely enough,” she replied softly.

“I dunno. I’m looking pretty close.” 

He drew her hand toward his lips, as if to kiss it. Joey pulled back, and he let her go, grinning to pretend it was a joke. Pretending he didn’t want to run his lips across her knuckles, to kiss her senseless. 

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“My biggest fear?” She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Living an unfulfilled life.”

He frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“I just don’t want to die full of regrets, you know?” She turned her head and looked at him. “Do you ever get the feeling that you’re only living half a life?”

Pacey nodded slowly. “I do.”

“And even when you think you're making the right choices, there are so many roads diverging from every path, that you’ll never really know if you’re taking the right one.”

“Because the one that feels right in the moment might not be the best way, and the one you think is a misstep might just be leading you to the place you need to go.”

Joey gave him a searching look. “Are you reading my mind, or what?”

“I wish I could.” 

Joey tilted her head. “What do you want to know?” she asked breathlessly. 

“Um…” He leaned in, his breath soft against her cheek. “Do you like me?”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?”

“Possibly. You were so desperate for an excuse to get out of that house, you’d have left with anyone.”

“True.” She looked around, casting her eyes across the crowd below them. “Maybe I should be reviewing my options.” 

Pacey covered her eyes with both his hands. “Oh, no you don’t.” 

He felt her cheeks lift as she smiled. She raised a hand and placed it on top of his. “The answer is yes, Pacey.”

He dropped his hands. “Yes, what?”

She turned to face him, her eyes glittering in the lights. “Yes, I like you.”

A slow smile crept across Pacey’s face. “You’re not half bad to be around, either.”

“Easy there with the compliments,” she teased. “You’ll over inflate my ego.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” 

“Nope.”

In the distance, fireworks started to explode, filling the night sky with bright lights and colours. Joey leaned her shoulder into him, and Pacey took her hand in his. 

She let him hold it until they reached the ground.

“I had a really good time tonight.”

Joey gave that little half-smile that he already adored as she unclipped her seatbelt. “Me, too.”

“Glad you came?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she teased. “But I wasn’t completely miserable for the _entire_ night.”

“You really know how to make a guy feel special, Josephine.”

She grinned at him. “In all seriousness, Pacey, thank you. I had fun.”

“We’ll have to do it again sometime,” he said. The smile faded on her face, and she looked away from him. 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? You can’t bail on me now, Potter. I’ve still gotta take you out on my boat. I promised, remember?”

She smirked. “I do recall something to that effect.” 

“Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, bright and early.”

Joey raised her eyebrows. “Negative. I’m spending tomorrow with Bessie. I can’t come all this way to stay with her and then leave her alone.”

“Fine. I have to work tomorrow anyway.”

She frowned. “What were you going to do if I said yes? Call in sick?”

“Why not?”

“Anyone ever tell you that your work ethic leaves a lot to be desired?”

“It’s called having a work-life balance,” he countered. “Have you ever considered taking your foot off the gas for five minutes and letting life just happen to you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him as she thought for a moment. “Nope. Sounds scary.” 

She opened the car door and he panicked at the thought that he might not see her again. He didn’t even know how long she planned to be in Capeside.

“What about Monday?”

She turned back to face him. “What about it?”

“It’s my day off. So what d’you say? You, me, the open water?” 

Joey bit her lip, thinking. “Maybe.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that I’m still thinking about it.” She stepped out of the Jeep and shut the door behind her. “Good night, Pacey.” 

“Night, Joey.”

He watched her walk up the steps to Bessie’s house, his heart thumping in his chest as she turned and waved over her shoulder before disappearing inside. Pacey took a long, slow breath in and out before putting the Jeep into reverse, and heading back onto the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, I'm not American, but I did work in NH for a while and attended a few carnivals of this sort so hopefully the details aren't too far off. Please tell me in the comments if they are, and don't forget to let me know what you think of the story so far!


	4. The Ice House (Revisited)

**_And you stood there in front of me just close enough to touch_ ** **_  
_** **_Close enough to hope you couldn't see what I was thinking of_ **

* * *

Joey told herself to stay away from him. Told herself that it was stupid to tempt fate, that she had a kind, loving boyfriend and did not need to spend time entertaining the notion of some guy she’d only just met. Especially someone who seemed to be a penniless bartender that Bodie seemed to think actually lived on a boat. 

And yet, two days later, she found herself walking back into the Ice House. Her heart jumped when she saw Pacey behind the counter, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the sight of him.

The look on his face when he saw her confirmed that it wasn’t just her who felt it. “Hey, Joey! You’re back.”

“Couldn’t stay away.” She took a seat on a barstool and rested her elbows on the counter. 

“What brings you to this fine establishment? Could it be the decor, the ambience, or is it the dashing chef you can’t get enough of?” 

“Just seeking out some top notch cuisine. I heard this is the only Michelin starred restaurant in the whole town, and I just had to see it for myself.”

“We are, of course, at your service.” He swept a bow, and she laughed. “Would you care to see the wine list?”

“I would indeed.”

Pacey grabbed a half-empty bottle of white wine out from under the counter and set it in front of her with a flourish. “Our house white,” he said. “That’s it. That’s the list.”

Joey grinned. “Pour me a glass, sir.”

He hesitated. “I actually can’t. We don’t have a liquor licence.”

“That’s okay. I don’t drink much anyway.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like what it does to me.” She leaned in closer. “It makes me a little...flirty.”

His eyes lit up. “Wouldn’t want that,” he deadpanned.

“No, we would not.”

“Diet Coke, then?”

“Sounds delectable.”

He poured her the drink, and tried not to stare as she wrapped her lips around the straw and sucked the liquid down her elegant throat. 

“So. I was hoping you’d stop by, actually.” His voice sounded nervous, even to his own ears. Joey raised her eyebrows. “I just wanted to tell you that I had a really good time the other night.”

“You said that already.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t had that much fun in a long time, and I just wanted to say thank you. Again.”

A soft smile crossed her face. “You’re welcome. I had fun, too.” 

“You want to, uh, do it again sometime?”

Joey frowned. “I thought you said the carnival was a one night thing.”

“It is. I mean, it was. It’s gone. But there are other forms of entertainment to be had in Capeside.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“Well, there’s...uh...a roller rink.”

“How very 1980s.”

“And there’s this place one town over that sometimes holds raves.”

Joey spluttered on her drink. “Please don’t tell me that you expect me to believe that you, Pacey Witter, actually go to raves.”

“I’ve been known to attend once or twice.” He pressed his palms against the counter and shrugged. “There was this kid called Drue Valentine who moved here in what would’ve been my senior year, and he used to talk me into stuff like that all the time.”

“Drue Valentine?” Her eyebrows arched. “Sounds like some kind of Disney villain. Or Disney prince. I’m not actually sure which.”

“Definitely a villain,” Pacey said. “Though he’d persuade you that he was the prince, right before breaking your heart.”

“Aww. Did you get your heart broken?” she teased him. 

“Please, Joey. I can’t talk about it.” He faked a sniffle. “The pain is still too raw.”

She flicked some Diet Coke at him off the end of her straw. “Goofball.”

A family of six came into the Ice House at that moment, and sat down. Pacey glanced at the clock, then sighed. 

“If you want something to eat, you’d better hurry up and order, because the lunch rush is about to start and I’m short-staffed here.”

“Why?” Joey looked around curiously. “How hard could it be to find people wanting to work at a classy establishment like this?”

“Don’t make fun of my source of income,” he said, pulling an order pad and pencil out from under the counter with a sigh. “Theresa’s called in sick, and Michaela quit last week. Amber’s due to arrive in half an hour, but that girl is _never_ on time, so for now, it’s just me.”

“Fine.” Joey slurped up the last of her soda and stepped off the bar stool. 

“You can’t be leaving already,” he protested. “You just got here.”

Joey reached across the counter and snatched the order pad and pencil out of his hand. “And it’s lucky for you that I did. Now get your butt into the kitchen and start warming up that fryer, y’hear?”

  
“This is probably violating about ten different health codes, given that I have zero qualifications in cooking, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume this place isn’t being regularly monitored by health inspectors,” Joey mused as she filled a paper ramekin with tartare sauce and placed it in the centre of a seafood platter. 

“I cannot believe you just said that.” Pacey added a slice of lemon and a parsley garnish. “I’ll have you know that the Ice House has never once failed an inspection.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.” She picked up the finished platter and headed for the doors that led back into the restaurant as Amber appeared at the pass and slapped down the next order slip.

“Table six wants two fish - one battered, one crumbed - two servings of buffalo wings, and four baskets of fries,” she told Pacey. 

“Got it.”

She looked behind her as Joey served the platter to the waiting customers. “She’s pretty.”

Pacey couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “Yes, she is.” He tipped frozen fries into a basket and lowered it into the deep fryer, ignoring the hot oil that splattered on his arms. 

“Prettier than me?” she asked, leaning over the pass and leering at him. 

“Much, much prettier than you,” he replied. “For one, she still has all her teeth.”

Amber laughed. She was, herself, a very attractive young woman. She flirted with Pacey constantly, but he always rebuffed her overtures. Quite aside from the fact that they had absolutely nothing in common, she was only eighteen. Far too young to tie herself to the likes of him.

He knew that. She didn’t. Amber came through the swinging doors and into the kitchen, where she stepped up behind Pacey and ran her hands down his back, her fingers lingering where his apron was tied. 

“How pretty, exactly, would you say that she is?” 

He turned around and put his hands on her arms, holding her at a distance. “Stop it.”

“On a scale of one to ten.” 

Amber fluttered her eyelashes as she looked up at him, and he was struck by just how unmoved he was by her attempts at flirting. In the past, he’d given himself credit for resisting her charm. Now, nothing she did could hold a torch to the effect Joey had to him when she simply glanced his way. Pacey looked out toward the restaurant, where he could see Joey taking orders from a new group of customers, and felt his stomach flutter.

“She’s the kind of pretty that gives you butterflies,” he said honestly. 

Amber was still looking up at him, but her expression saddened. “Never lose the butterflies.”

“Amber.” He hated the look of disappointment in her eyes. He realised he was still holding her arms, and tried to let go, but she clamped her hands over top of his and held him still. 

“She’s not going to stay here, Pacey.” Her words were blunt, flat. “She’s visiting her sister, and then she’ll go back to New York or wherever it is that she came from, and forget all about you.”

“Boston.”

“Whatever. Same difference. Just another big city where you’ll never fit in.”

The bell at the pass chimed, and he looked over to see Joey staring at them, her eyes dark. “Order’s up for table three. If you two could get back to work, that’d be great.”

Amber dropped her hands and scowled as Pacey spun around, returning his attention to the deep fryer. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” she told Joey.

“You’re right. I’m not. But I am an expert in Human Resource Management, and I can tell you right now that workplace relationships are universally frowned upon. So get back to work, or I walk out.”

“Don’t do that,” Pacey said quickly, shooting a pleading look Amber’s way. “C’mon, you don’t want to be out there on your own do you?”

Amber rolled her eyes and stalked back into the dining room. Joey went to the bar and started filling the drinks order. Pacey tried to keep cooking, flipping burger patties over on the grill, but he couldn’t forget the cold look in Joey’s eyes. He had to fix it. 

“Don’t burn,” he told the burgers, then hurried out of the kitchen and over to where Joey was standing. “Hey, can we talk?”

“About what?” She wouldn’t look at him, her eyes focused on the drinks fridge. “We’re out of Dr Pepper.”

“There’s another case in the basement. Joey, look at me. Please.” 

She rolled her eyes and turned to face him. “What do you want me to say, Pacey? Fine, so I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not…” He frowned. “You did overreact, didn’t you?”

Joey pulled a face at him and went back to pouring drinks. 

“Are you jealous, Josephine?”

She scoffed. “As if.”

“You are! You’re jealous that an attractive man, such as myself, has women falling all over me.” Pacey grinned. “Sorry, sweetheart, but that’s just something you’ll have to get used to.”

His attempt at humour fell flat. Joey’s dour expression didn’t change. “I’m not jealous, Pacey. I’m concerned.”

“Why? There’s nothing going on between me and Amber.”

“No, there’s nothing going on between _us_ ,” she told him, motioning between them with her forefinger. “And this little flirtation we’ve got going on is starting to...” Her voice trailed off.

“Is starting to what?”

“To be embarrassing.”

Pacey felt as if she’d punched him in the gut. “You’re embarrassed by me?”

“No! I’m embarrassed for--” She sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”

“I don’t care.”

“That the kitchen is on fire?” She shot him a look as she hurried past him. “You’re the worst employee ever, you know that?”

“It has been said,” he muttered as he followed her back into the kitchen. 

Joey grabbed a spatula and flipped the blackened burgers onto the counter, then waved away the acrid smoke. “Are you trying to burn the place down?”

“What do you care?” he grumbled, taking the spatula from her hand and getting fresh patties out of the fridge. “You know, if being here is so embarrassing for you, why don’t you just leave? Amber and I have got it covered.”

Joey stood silently for a moment, watching as he tossed raw burgers onto the grill and watched them sizzle. 

“I was trying to say that I’m embarrassed for _me_.” Her voice was soft, barely audible over the splattering grease. 

Pacey turned around and looked at her. “What? Why?”

“Because I have a boyfriend back home, and he’s a good person,” she said, sounding pained. Pacey’s heart was thumping in his chest. “And I came here to be with my sister, but I keep ditching her to spend time with you, because ever since we met, I can’t stop thinking about you, or wanting to be near you, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to smile, to sweep her into his arms and hold her tight. To never let go. “Do you love him?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“If you can’t ans--” 

She cut him off. “Pacey, stop psychoanalyzing me, okay? Just…” she jumped as Amber rang the bell at the pass and slapped down another food order. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m not working tonight,” he added quickly as she tried again to leave. “Dennis is coming in at five to take over.” 

She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll see you then.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Joey tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled shyly at him. 

Pacey ached with longing for her. He wanted to tell her how impossibly beautiful she looked, how desperately attracted he was to her, but he knew that he couldn’t. 

“How was the rest of your shift?”

“It was okay. It got a lot less busy after you left.” 

They strolled side by side down the boardwalk. Occasionally, their elbows bumped as they walked. 

“Tell me about him.”

Joey blinked at him in surprise. “Who?”

“Who do you think? David. Your boyfriend.”

“Why do you want to know about him?”

“I guess I’m curious. How’d you two meet?”

“At work.” She frowned. “This is weird. I don’t know if I want to do this.”

“C’mon, Joey. We’re friends, right?” He waited for her to nod. “Then as your friend, you should be able to talk to me about your lover.”

She pulled a face. “My lover? What are you, one of the Spice Girls?”

“Now that you mention it, I have always been told that I strongly resemble Baby Spice.” She snorted with laughter, and he grinned. “And she smiles. Mission accomplished.”

“I’m not telling you about David.”

“Go on. So you met at work? Was it like a boss/secretary kind of thing?” He saw her blush and look at her feet, and his jaw dropped. “It was! You little hussy.”

“Shut up! It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t his secretary.”

“But you work for him.”

“I work _with_ him.”

“Is he in HR as well?”

“No. He’s a partner.”

Pacey felt his ego deflate several notches. “He’s a partner in a law firm? What is he, a child prodigy?”

“No. He’s…” She paused, wondering why she was telling him this, then pushed on. “He’s older.”

“Older? How much older? Older than you, or older than God?” She punched his arm, and he laughed. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to guess. Thirty. Thirty-five. Forty. Forty-five?” He raised his eyebrows higher. “ _Fifty_? Don’t make me go any higher, Jo. I don’t have the stomach for it.”

“You cretin. He’s forty-two.”

He knew a moment of relief, but it was brief. “Forty-two? So he’s like, seventeen years older than you.”

“Yes.”

“Does he have kids?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“How many?”

“Why are you asking me this?” she demanded. “You don’t want to know this, Pacey! Can’t we just--”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know. Pretend.”

“That he doesn’t exist? Jo, you’re starting to make me feel bad for the guy.”

“Fine. What do you want to ask, Pacey? Yes, he has kids. No, they don’t like me. Yes, we live together. No, he hasn’t asked me to marry him. Anything else?”

“How long?”

“Four years.”

“And he still hasn’t asked you--”

“No.”

“If he did. Would you say yes?”

She lengthened her stride. “I’m not having this conversation anymore.”

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know!” She came to such a sudden stop that he almost ran into her. “I thought I did. He makes me happy. He makes me feel safe, and secure. I thought that he was the one, and then…”

“And then what?” 

He stared at her lips as she bit them. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his entire life. If he’d been ten years younger, he’d have just grabbed her and kissed her, then and there, regardless of whether she wanted him to or not. But he wasn’t a stupid kid anymore, and he didn’t want to scare her off. And truth be told, he wanted her to be the one to kiss him first. 

“And then I met you.” She lifted her eyes to his, and he swallowed hard, lost in the depths of her gaze. “And you’ve fogged everything up.”

“It’s funny that you say that,” he replied, his breath raspy. “Because I feel the opposite. It’s like I’ve been walking around seeing my life through a smudged window, and then I saw you, and the smudges were gone. The window was clear.”

“Very poetic,” she muttered.

“Well, I try.”

“Pacey, can we just put the brakes on this for a minute?” 

“Put the brakes on what, exactly?”

“You know what I mean. We’re just friends, right?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“What I--” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “It _is_ what I want.”

“Then yes. We can just be friends.”

“Okay. Good.” They started walking again. “Where are we going?”

“Well, I was thinking about walking you home. If that’s okay with you.”

She smiled. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

They’d barely made it a block before a police cruiser drove past. The cop behind the wheel leaned over and eyeballed them, and Joey felt her stomach clench. 

“What’s down here?” She veered off down a side street, and Pacey scrambled to change course and follow her. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m admiring the town’s architecture.”

“Uh huh. Well, let me give you the tour. That’s a shop. That’s another shop. That’s a big old blank brick wall. Impressed yet?”

She paused in front of the wall, looking thoughtful. “You know, that’s the perfect spot for a giant mural.”

“Of what?” Pacey asked.

“I don’t know.” She turned to face him. “But since you interrogated me back at the Ice House earlier, now it’s my turn.”

“Oh, brother.”

“Let’s start there. Do you have a brother? Any sisters?”

“One brother. Three sisters. Next question.”

To his surprise, she didn’t ask any more questions about his siblings. But he wished she had. “Tell me about your dad.”

He kicked a stone at the wall. “That’s not a question.”

“Please?”

He was powerless to refuse her anything. He wondered if she knew that. “He was the Sheriff. He was well-respected in the local community,” he said, repeating the usual garbage that everyone spun about his old man. But she’d been honest with him. The least he could do was return the favour. “And he was a functioning alcoholic who was hard on his wife and even harder on his kids.” He sighed. He always tried his best not to think about his father. It was like pouring salt into old wounds, only to find they weren’t as scabbed over as he’d thought. “Nothing I ever did was good enough for him. I wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t athletic enough. Every time I failed at something, it was like he took it as a personal insult, like I was doing it on purpose to make him look bad. All I ever wanted was for him to be proud of me.” 

“Was he violent?”

Pacey frowned. The scar on his cheek twinged. “Sometimes. Not often. I learned to stay out of his way when he’d been drinking.”

“Did he hit your mom?”

“No. Never.” He sighed. “She loved him. Sometimes that seems like the hardest part. I mean, she knew what he was like. She saw it happen. But she did nothing.” 

Joey’s hand slipped into his, their fingers interlocking. He looked down at their hands in surprise. 

“This doesn’t mean what you think it means,” she said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “But for the record, I’m really sorry that you had to go through that. I know my dad has his flaws, multitudes of them,” she said, her expression darkening. “But he always loved us and believed in us.”

Pacey’s hand gripped hers a little tighter. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

“For the record, your father _should_ be proud of you. You’re a good person, Pacey.” She leaned her shoulder against his, just for a moment. “And I’m proud to know you.”

“Why thank you, Miss Potter.”

“You’re very welcome.” She gave him a full beaming smile, and he wanted to freeze the moment in time so he could stay there forever, staring into her eyes. 

“How do you do that?” he asked in wonder.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel so much better.”

“Well.” They left the alley and stepped out onto Main Street. “I _am_ an expert in HR.”

“Right.” 

“Hey, Pacey!” 

They turned to see a tall, well-built man approaching them. Joey dropped his hand like a hot potato. Pacey tried to cover his disappointment with a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going, Mitch?”

“Not bad, not bad. You get your Jeep up and running yet?”

“Yeah, I fixed it last week. You were right, it was the spark plugs.”

“I told you.” Mitch grinned as he stopped in front of Pacey and slapped him convivially on the shoulder. “You’re still coming to the Rialto tonight, right?” 

Pacey blanched. _Shit_. He’d totally forgotten. “That’s tonight?”

Mitch looked at Joey, then back to Pacey. “Sure is.” He plastered a grin back on his face. “Bring your lady friend along, if you’d like. I’ll reserve two seats for you.”

“Er, thanks.” Pacey didn’t know what else to say. “We’ll try and make it.”

He didn’t miss the way Mitch’s smile wavered when he said the word _try_. He knew how much it meant to the guy to have Pacey show up. 

Joey had been listening silently to their conversation, but apparently she couldn’t help herself from speaking up. “What’s on at the Rialto?” 

“The debut of my son’s new movie,” Mitch said proudly. “The real premiere was in LA, of course, just last night. He always sends a copy back home to Capeside. There’ll be free champagne,” he added, with a wink and a nudge in Joey’s direction. “I know how you ladies love bubbles.” 

Joey’s eyebrows lifted, and Pacey knew she was lining up a snappy comeback that Mitch probably didn’t deserve. The man, oblivious to her impending snark, continued with his sales pitch. 

“Some people get dressed up, make a real night of it,” he continued, his enthusiasm unwavering.

“Well, with free champagne on offer, how could we resist?” Joey said with a smile that Mitch interpreted as genuine. “We’ll definitely be there. Right, Pace?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Mitch rubbed his hands together. “Excellent. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay.” Pacey stood and watched the man stride happily down the street, then sighed. “We don’t have to go.”

“Are you kidding? You know how us ladies just _love_ bubbles,” Joey replied, fluttering her eyelashes and pretending to swoon. “How could I possibly have said no?” 

“He’s a good guy,” Pacey told her. “A little over-enthusiastic, but he’s a supportive dad.” _Not that his son deserves him_ , he thought to himself, but he didn’t say that part out loud.

“God knows we could all use one of those.” Joey’s tone had turned wistful. “Sorry. I’m being rude. We’ll go. It’ll be fun, right?”

Pacey shrugged. “If not, we can always drown our sorrows in champagne.” 

“Exactly. And it’ll make the movie more tolerable.”

“It can try.”

She laughed as they kept walking along the street. The Rialto loomed ahead of them, the lettering above the door spelling out their evening plans in capital letters. 

PREMIERE 8PM TONIGHT!  
 **SCREAM A LITTLE SCREAM**   
A DAWSON LEERY FILM

Joey looked up and read the sign. “Wait. Hold up.” She put her hand on Pacey’s chest to stop him. He looked down at her hand, her finger tips almost brushing against the skin at his throat, and struggled to breathe. “Please tell me we’re not going to see _that_ movie.”

“Actually, we are. What’s wrong?” Pacey asked, trying to talk past the quickening of his pulse. “Not a fan of scary movies?”

“Not particularly, but that’s not the problem. _A Dawson Leery Film_? No. That’s the garbage that Bessie was trying to make me watch with her the other night before you rescued me and took me to the carnival.” She tried to dampen down her smile as Pacey shot his broadest grin at her. “It was melodramatic hogwash. I vowed and declared then and there that I’d never see another one of that guy’s movies.”

“Sorry. But you promised his dad, and there are no take-backs.”

“Says who?” she demanded. “I was lured into this under false pretences.”

“Of what?”

“Quality cinema.”

“Nobody said anything about quality cinema,” he countered. “Besides, this isn’t a romantic film like _Secret Summer,_ which I’m assuming is the aforementioned ‘garbage’ Bessie made you watch?” He fought back his own smile as Joey gagged in response. “This one’s a horror movie.”

“ _That_ one was a horror movie,” she replied. “A teenage girl moves in next door to a creepy guy who’s instantly obsessed with her and claims to love her without knowing anything about her? Then he starts filming her without her knowledge so he can supposedly find out everything about her in order to more effectively win her over. It’s so gross. And when she finds out what he’s done, instead of punching his stupid face in, she’s actually _flattered_ by his stalker behaviour and starts dating him. Only a man would have written something that stupid, and a deluded man at that. I hope to God I never meet this Dawson Leery, because I already know I’d hate his guts.” 

“Well if it’s any consolation to you, he probably wouldn’t like you either.”

She pouted. “Why, because I’m a realist?” 

“Yes, exactly. Dawson lives in his own version of reality, where the good guys always win and the bad guys get punished.”

“And the good girls are virginal and pure, while the bad girls are relentlessly punished and eventually killed off,” she finished with a dramatic eye roll. “Are you actually friends with this guy?”

Pacey nodded. “Since kindergarten. We were best friends, right up until his parents split up in our sophomore year. His mom moved to Philly, and he went to spend the summer with her, discovered the local high school had a top of the line film programme, and never came back. Well, he came back sometimes,” he amended. “Spent a few weeks with his dad every summer, and every other Christmas, but by the time he was a senior, we’d grown so far apart that we couldn’t really remember why we’d been friends in the first place.” 

“Well, if you ask me, that’s no great loss.”

He scuffed the toe of his sandal against the sidewalk. “Yeah. I guess.”

Joey bumped his arm with her elbow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” She narrowed her eyes. “You missed him, huh?”

“He was my best friend,” Pacey muttered. “We did everything together. I acted in his stupid movies and his dad took us on fishing trips. We built a fort in the woods and camped out there overnight, and Dawson kept insisting that we go and look for a dead body because he’d just seen _Stand By Me_ for the first time.”

“I hope you didn’t find one.”

“We found a dead deer.” Pacey shoved his hands into his pockets, shying away from that memory. The deer had been shot in the neck by a hunter who’d missed their target, and had failed to track the animal down to put it out of its misery. It had slowly bled out, and he’d never forget the look on its face when they had found it, lying in a pool of dried blood, crawling with maggots. “Dawson threw up when he saw it. Twice.” 

“Did you?”

“No.” 

He’d just stared at it, watching the maggots wriggle inside the dead animal’s eye sockets. Dawson had been forced to drag him away, gagging as he tugged Pacey’s sleeve until it ripped. They’d stumbled back to their campsite, the smell of rotting flesh still in their nostrils. Dawson had wanted to go straight home, but Pacey had mocked him for it, calling him a wuss and a little girl and saying the kids in _Stand By Me_ would’ve never let something as small as a dead deer thwart their adventure. Eventually, his friend had capitulated, but only after Pacey had given him his share of the sandwiches first, since Dawson had claimed that he needed the sustenance after emptying his stomach at the sight of the deer. Then he’d crawled into his sleeping bag without speaking, while Pacey lay in the darkness, his stomach rumbling. He’d thought of the deer, and how scared it must have been, lying there helplessly, slowly bleeding out. And when he’d heard Dawson’s breathing slow down and his soft snoring start, he’d buried his head inside his own sleeping bag, and cried over the inhumanity of it all. 

Fingertips brushing against the back of his hand jolted Pacey back to reality. He blinked away the memories and looked at Joey. 

“Sorry. Zoned out for a minute there.” Her eyes were searching his face, trying to read his emotions. He plastered a smile on to cover up anything else she might see. “That’s all in the past now, anyway.”

“Doesn’t mean it hasn’t had a profound effect on you.”

He chuckled. “Dawson would love that. Thinking he had a profound effect. And I’ll have you know that the guy does in fact know how to make a decent horror film. He won a film competition in high school with _Sea Monster from the Deep_.” 

Joey rolled her eyes. “Spare me.”

“I have a VHS copy somewhere,” Pacey continued. “I’m sure I can dig it out for you.”

“Not if you ever want to see me again,” she replied. “I just don’t get his whole aesthetic. It’s such saccharine bullshit. All that stuff about summer romance and fated soulmates.” She pulled a face. “Tell me you don’t believe in any of that.”

Pacey shrugged. “I don’t know. He made that movie about a girl who moved in next door to him in our freshman year. She didn’t stay for long - her grandmother kicked her out after a few months - but they did find each other again years later, and even dated for a while. So maybe there’s something in the whole soulmate idea, after all.” 

“That sounds to me like a coincidence,” Joey said. “And they’re not together now, are they?”

“No.” 

“So. Point proven. If they were really soulmates, if such a thing truly existed, they’d have made it work.”

“Maybe your soulmate isn’t someone you’re destined to be with forever,” Pacey argued. “Maybe their paths were only meant to cross for a short time.”

Joey looked at him, her eyes deep and serious. “But if that’s the case, then what’s the point? Why have a soulmate at all?”

“You’d have to ask the universe for an answer to that,” he replied. “I am but a lowly fry cook who has not been made privy to such cosmic details.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a goofball, you know that?”

“Why thank you, Miss Potter. I am floored, yet again, by the calibre of your compliments.”

She slapped him in the stomach, and he pretended to double over. “You bug me.”


	5. The Rialto

**_I'm on my guard for the rest of the world_ ** **_  
_** **_But with you I know it’s no good_ **

* * *

“Hey Bessie, can I borrow a dress?” Joey asked, pulling her sister’s wardrobe doors open and scrutinising the contents.

“Is my baby sister actually asking to borrow my clothes?” Bessie called back, her voice filled with disbelief.

“I borrowed your clothes all the time.”

“Yeah, but you've never _asked_ before.” Bessie waddled into the doorway and sized Joey up. “What do you need a dress for?”

“I’m going to the movies.” 

“With Pacey?”

“Yes.”

“And you need a dress because…”

“It’s a _premiere_.” She pronounced it like the French would, lightly rolling the r’s, and Bessie pulled a face. “I'm told there’ll be free champagne.”

“Sounds irresistible,” Bessie deadpanned. “Especially for someone who hardly ever drinks.”

“Maybe I’ll make an exception,” Joey said, pulling a dress out of the wardrobe and looked at it. “Do you have anything that’s not floral?”

“What’s wrong with floral?”

“You really have to ask?” Joey retorted. “You don’t own even one little black dress?”

“I don’t wear black, Jo. You know that.”

“Vive la hippie rebellion.” 

Joey rifled through her sister’s clothes again so she wouldn’t have to look at Bessie. Her sister hadn’t worn black since Mom’s funeral, when their father had guilt tripped her into it. Bessie had wanted to wear the blue floral print dress that Mom had loved on her, but Dad had insisted that only black was proper attire for a funeral. Bessie hadn’t wanted to argue with him, grief-stricken as he was, but Joey knew that she regretted capitulating. She had gone home and got rid of every scrap of black clothing she owned, so that she could never be bullied into such a thing again. 

“I give up. All your clothes are hideous.”

“Did you not bring a single dress with you?” 

“Excuse me for not planning to attend a black tie film premiere in sleepy little Capeside.” She rifled through the rack again. “This town is full of surprises.”

“It sure is. What about that one?”

“It’s _yellow_ , Bess.”

“So? Try it on. It’s too small for me, so it might fit your twig figure. I bought it on sale, thinking it would motivate me into dieting enough to fit into it, but…”

“Then you got pregnant.”

“No, I just decided that I liked food more.”

Joey laughed as she held the dress up against her and stepped in front of the mirror. “Hmm. It’s not actually as hideous as I first thought.” The dress was a simple cut, with spaghetti straps and a floral gauze on top of a pale yellow satin slip. 

“Don’t sound _too_ enthusiastic,” Bessie replied. “Try it on. I can always take it in for you, if needed. As you know, I wield a mighty sewing needle.”

“It _is_ your super power,” Joey agreed. “All right, fine. I’ll try it.”

Pacey had arranged to pick her up at half past seven, but by quarter of eight, he still hadn’t arrived. 

Your date is running late,” Bodie said, carrying two glasses of iced tea into the living room and handing one to Bessie. 

“He’s not my date, he’s my friend.”

“He’s still--”

Before Bessie could finish her sentence, a police car pulled up in front of the house. Joey felt her heart constrict inside her chest. She spun around to look at Bessie, who was frowning. 

“Why are the cops here?” Joey asked, her voice thick in her throat. “What do they want?”

Bodie stood up and went to the window. “Relax, Joey. Look.”

Hesitantly, she looked out to see Pacey unfold his long limbs from the front seat of the police cruiser. He slammed the door shut, then saw them looking and lifted a hand to wave. 

Joey let the curtain fall and stepped back. “I’m not getting in that car.”

Bessie sipped her tea. “Calm down, Joey.”

“No! I don’t get it. Is this some kind of sick joke?” she demanded. Pacey was walking up the path to the house, swinging his arms by his sides, a smile on his face. “Why does he even _have_ a cop car?”

“His brother’s on the force,” Bodie said casually. He saw the look on Joey’s face and winced. “I guess he never mentioned that to you.”

“I guess not.” 

The porch boards creaked as Pacey stepped onto them. “What do I do?” Joey asked her sister in a panic. “I can’t get in that car.”

“Tell him that, not us,” Bessie suggested as the doorbell chimed. “Go on, answer it.”

Joey stalked to the front door and yanked it open. Pacey looked at her, his smile widening in appreciation. 

“Wow. You look great.”

The same could be said for him. He was wearing a navy blue short-sleeved button down, and a pair of jeans that fitted him just right. But she wasn’t in the mood to give him any compliments. 

“What is that?” she demanded, pointing at the cruiser.

“My Jeep wouldn’t start,” he admitted. “I ran out of options, so I borrowed Doug’s car.” Pacey frowned at her angry face, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. “Is that a problem?”

Joey scoffed. “Uh, yeah that’s a problem. I’m not riding in a police car. Not with you, not with anyone. Not ever.”

“Why not?”

“Because I made a promise to myself years ago. And I don’t break my promises.”

Pacey looked confused. “But why-- oh. Shit. Your dad.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, Joey. I didn’t even think of that. I just, I needed a car, and Dougie’s patrol car was right there. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t ask him first.”

“So it’s a stolen police car? Even better.”

He could’ve kicked himself. “Tell me how to fix it.”

“Don’t bother.” She started to shut the door, but Pacey shoved his foot forward and stopped her. “ _What_ are you doing?” she demanded. 

“Please, Jo? I mean, you got all dressed up, and--”

“If you start telling me about the free champagne,” she warned him, but he shook his head. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I was just going to say that I have to go to this premiere either way, and I’d really rather have you by my side, eviscerating Dawson’s artistic efforts, than to be there alone. Or worse, to have to sit with Mitch, who’ll whisper second-hand anecdotes about his son’s inspiration for every scene. I’ve been through that before. It’s the worst.” Despite her irritation, Joey grinned. Buoyed by her response, Pacey continued. “ _Please_ save me from that dire fate.”

She sighed. He hadn’t meant to offend her, and his apology had sounded sincere. “I’m still not riding in that car.”

“The answer to the question that you’re asking yourself right now, Pacey, is yes,” Bessie said as she walked up behind her sister. “Yes, she _has_ always been this stubborn. And no, you won’t be able to change her mind. Not in the--” she checked her watch “fifteen minutes you have left before the movie starts.” She picked up a set of keys from the hall table and handed them to Joey. “Take my car, Jo, and drive yourself.” 

“What if you need it?” Joey demanded. “What if you go into labour while I’m gone, and you have no way to get to the hospital?”

Bodie cleared his throat. “I _am_ here, too. I have a car also, and am more than capable of helping your sister out.”

“Okay. Good.” She took a breath and closed her fingers around the keys. “You’ve convinced me.”

Pacey let out a sigh of relief as Joey stepped out into the warm evening. “Great. You can be my chauffeur for a change.”

“Oh, no. You’re not leaving that car in my driveway,” Bessie told him. “Take it back to Doug. He only lives a block from the Rialto, so Joey can meet you there.”

Pacey clicked his heels and saluted, and Bessie flipped him the bird before shutting the door in his face. He turned to Joey, still grinning, and offered her his arm. 

“Shall we?”

“Nice try.” She sidestepped his elbow and headed towards Bessie’s battered green VW. “I’ll meet you there, Pacey.”

They arrived at the Rialto with minutes to spare. Mitch Leery was hovering around in the foyer, handing out plastic flutes of champagne to the handful of people who’d turned up to support his son. Just ahead of them in line was the elderly Mrs Ryan, who shook her head at Mitch’s offer of a drink. 

“Not for me, thank you.” 

“Go on, Evelyn,” Mitch pressed. “Just a small glass, to toast to Dawson.” 

“Mitch!” Pacey exclaimed, announcing his presence to the older man and allowing Mrs Ryan a chance to escape. “Sorry we’re late. I didn’t properly introduce you earlier, but this is my friend, Joey Potter.”

“Nice to meet you, Joey.” He shook her hand, his giant bear-like paw smothering hers. “Any friend of Pacey’s is a friend of mine. Champagne?”

“Sure.” She reached out and took two of the plastic flutes from his tray. Mitch grinned at her, then turned to offer another patron a refill. Pacey reached for one of Joey’s glasses, but she shook her head. “Uh, uh. These are both for me.” She leaned in conspiratorially towards him. “I have the strong feeling that I’m going to need them.” 

They went to find their seats, and Pacey paused to help Mrs Ryan up the steps. This time the assistance of his arm was gratefully received by the woman he was offering it to, and she thanked him as she settled into her seat. Joey watched his chivalry, a smile tracing the curve of her lips. Moments later, they found their own seats and sat down. 

“This is a pretty swanky movie theatre for a small town like this,” Joey commented as she sank into her plush seat. 

“You can thank Mitch for that. After the divorce, he bought the place and renovated it. I think his intention was to lure Dawson back to Capeside.”

“But it didn’t work.”

“Not the way he’d hoped it would, no.” 

The previews started, and they lowered their voices. Joey had condescended to share her champagne with Pacey, and they were both lightly buzzed as they watched the trailer for an upcoming rom-com that had Joey groaning in disgust at its contrived set-up. 

“Oh, please. That’s so unrealistic. As if that--”

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Potter?” 

His breath was warm against the side of her face, and all the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“I”m going to get some snacks. You want anything?”

She was too scared to turn her head and look at him. His face was still so close to hers that she thought she might end up kissing him. 

“Uh, maybe some popcorn,” she mumbled. 

“Done.” 

He moved closer, brushing his lips against the side of her face in the softest of kisses, so light she almost wasn’t sure that it had happened. Pacey pulled back and stood up, and she turned her head and watched him go. 

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and Joey turned around to see a middle-aged woman frowning at her. 

“Be careful with that one,” she told Joey. 

“Excuse me?”

But the woman just shook her head and sat back in her seat, lips pursed as she focused on the screen. 

The trailer had changed to one for an action film that was too loud for her to continue to question the woman. Joey turned back to face the screen, then flinched at a police officer standing behind their squad car, red and blue lights flashing and gun pointed at the action hero, who was outside his house with his hands up while his wife and children looked on. Joey squeezed her eyes shut just before the gunshots went off, and she stood up quickly, averting her gaze from the screen as she made her way along the row of seats and out into the aisle. Squealing tyres and shouts followed her out of the cinema, and it wasn’t until the door had swung shut behind her and she was alone in the hallway that she could breathe.

Pacey appeared around the corner, arms filled with popcorn and soda. “You come to lend a hand?” he teased, then saw her face. “You okay, Joey?”

She nodded. “I will be. Just needed some air.”

He wasn’t buying it, she could tell. But he didn’t press her. “Okay.” Pacey held out the tray of sodas, and she took one gratefully. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We could go somewhere else, or I could take you home...” 

“It’s fine. Besides, I drove myself here, remember?”

“Right.” He looked uneasy. “I just feel like I’ve dragged you along against your will, and--”

“Pacey, relax.” She reached out and touched the back of his hand. “I just couldn’t sit through those awful trailers without someone to listen to my opinion on them.”

“You know, you and Dawson might have more in common than you think,” he said, and she pulled a face and grabbed a handful of popcorn. 

“Heaven forbid.” She shoved the popcorn into her mouth, and they stood there, stupidly grinning at each other until Mitch came hurrying in their direction. 

“Pacey! Hurry up. It’s about to start.” 

Mitch pulled the door open and motioned them through. Joey led the way, with Pacey on her heels, and Mitch shepherding them back to their seats like an eager sheepdog. To Pacey’s chagrin, he sat down right next to him, just as the opening credits started to roll. 

_A Dawson Leery Film._

Mitch let out a cheer at his son’s name. A few other patrons in the cinema chuckled, and one or two clapped along politely. Pacey shot a look at Joey, expecting another eye-roll, but she was looking at Mitch and smiling, clearly at least a little charmed by his enthusiasm for his son’s endeavours. Pacey set the popcorn on the armrest between them, and they both tucked into it, their hands occasionally brushing each other’s as they reached into the large bucket. 

Dawson might not be very good at friendship, Pacey mused to himself as he watched the film’s opening sequence, but he did know something about film-making. The slow build of tension, the occasional laugh break, the self-awareness and tongue-in-cheek subversion of the genre’s most obvious tropes all made for an entertaining film. Every time the audience laughed or gasped, Mitch looked around him with a shit-eating grin, so immensely proud of his son’s success. Joey sat silently next to Pacey for the first few minutes, her eyes fixed on the screen, but her hand was in the popcorn bucket when the first big jump scare hit, and she leapt almost out of her seat, letting out a muffled scream. 

Pacey made a grab for the bucket, but it was too late. It hit the floor, scattering popcorn across their feet. Joey looked at him guiltily. 

“Sorry.”

“You really are quite the skittish kitten.” She elbowed him in the arm, and he chuckled, returning his attention to the screen.

The killer was stalking through the house with a knife, and another jump scare was looming. Pacey was trying to watch the screen, but he couldn’t help sneaking glances at Joey. Her eyes were wide and her arms crossed defensively over her chest. 

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “You okay?”

She shot him an apologetic look. “Did I mention that I don’t like scary movies?” she said quietly, then shrieked as another jump scare hit. 

Half the audience jumped, and Mitch let out a bellowing laugh, clapping his hands together in delight. Joey shielded her eyes as she tried to avoid looking at the screen, and Pacey laughed.

“C’mere, Potter.” 

He put his arm around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Without hesitation, she rested her head against his shoulder, burying her face against him to hide from the drama onscreen. Pacey ran his hand up and down her bare arm, feeling the raised goosebumps on her skin. Her body fit against his like the missing piece of a puzzle, like she’d always belonged there. It scared him, just how strongly he felt about this woman, but it scared him even more to consider letting her go. 

“It’s over,” he whispered into her hair as the closing credits began to roll. “You still alive there, or have you literally been scared to death?”

Joey sat up and eyeballed him, her mouth twisting into a pretty scowl. She must have been a handful as a child, he thought, then wished he could have seen that, could’ve known her back then. 

Before she could answer him, Mitch leaned over and slapped Pacey on the shoulder. 

“So, what’d you think?”

“It was great,” Pacey said honestly. He was happy for Dawson, that he’d managed to achieve his dream and succeed at his goals. He’d made a movie, not just a decent one, but a seriously good one. This was going to blow up his career in the best possible way. “Best thing he’s ever made.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Mitch couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “What about you, Joey? Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” she told him. 

“You barely saw any of it,” Pacey countered. “She spent most of the movie with her face hidden in my shirt.” 

Mitch laughed as Joey scowled at Pacey for outing her. “Well, I’m sure you weren’t complaining. I better go, I gotta call Dawson.”

“Tell him congrats from me,” Pacey said. “And not to forget about us little folks when he’s taking Hollywood by storm.”

Mitch laughed again and headed back to the foyer, stopping to have his back slapped and to be congratulated by several other moviegoers. Pacey stood up to leave, then found Joey on her hands and knees, scraping popcorn back into the bucket. 

“Jo, you don’t have to do that. They do employ cleaners here.”

She glared up at him. “I spent a summer working at a movie theatre when I was fifteen. I know how much I hated the assholes who made a mess and just walked out like it wasn’t another half hour of my time.”

“Fair point.” Pacey crouched down and helped her as the rest of the patrons filed out of the cinema. “So, tell me the truth. What’d you think of Dawson’s latest endeavour?”

“Better than the last one.” She rocked back onto her heels. “It’s not going straight to the top of my favourites list, but it was pretty good. And at least this woman had the good sense to murder the man who was stalking her.”

Pacey raised his eyebrows. “I’ll heed that warning.”

She laughed. “Everything was tied up a little too neatly at the end, though.” 

She dropped the popcorn bucket into the trash on her way out. 

“You don’t like a happy ending?”

“On occasion,” she admitted with a wry smile. “But I’m not a fan of _And then everyone lived happily ever after._ I call bullshit on that.”

“How’d you get to be such a cynic?” he asked curiously.

“How are you not?” she replied. “Life isn’t filled with happy endings, Pacey.”

“All the more reason to portray them in film.”

“Why? It just gives people unrealistic expectations.”

“So you don’t believe in happily ever after?”

“Do you?” she challenged. “Name me one couple that you know in real life who actually got their happy ever after. Who got married and are still both married _and_ happy together.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated. “Uh…”

“See? You can’t.”

“Bessie and Bodie seemed pretty happy when I saw them tonight.”

Joey frowned. “They’ve been married all of twenty minutes. That doesn’t count.”

“I didn’t realise there was such a strict criteria.” He paused, leaning against the railing and looking out across the glittering ocean. Something about the horizon made him brave. Made him reckless. Made him stupid. The words hovered on his lips for a few moments before he dared say them. “What about you and me?”

“What?” She turned to him with a half-smile that slowly faded as she saw the serious look in his eyes. “Pacey, there is no _you and me_ , remember?”

“What if there was?”

“In what reality?”

He sighed heavily, his eyes returning to the water, hands gripping the smooth railing. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s another world out there where you and I met years ago.”

“Maybe.” She spoke so softly he almost thought he’d imagined it. “But we probably would’ve hated each other.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, we disagree on everything,” she pointed out. “You really think that’s a foundation for a solid relationship?”

“It works in the movies.”

“Coming full circle and proving my point,” she declared with a smirk. “Movies aren’t reality, Pacey.”

“You sure about that?” 

He edged closer, unable to resist the temptation of her soft skin, her sweet scent. Joey half-closed her eyes as his hand slid onto her lower back, his fingertips tracing her spine. He felt her shiver under his touch, and her eyelids fluttered. Then she moved, twisting her body away, and his hand fell back to his side.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” Her mouth twisted into a mocking, sad smile. “Which means that this right here--” she said, motioning between the two of them. “--is never going to happen.” 

“Never say never, Joey,” he persisted. “And just because you don’t believe in happily ever after, doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

“If you insist.” They stepped out of the cinema into the chilly air. “It’s cold tonight.”

“It’s the ocean breeze. Cools everything down.”

They crossed the street to Bessie’s beetle. “Well, thanks for a nice night.”

“Did you really enjoy it?”

She shrugged. “The movie wasn’t my favourite. But the company was pretty good.”

He grinned at her. “You know, you could just ditch that boyfriend of yours and move in with me.”

“Onto your boat? Don’t be ridiculous. Where would I sleep?”

“I’ll string a hammock up for you. It’ll be romantic. We can sail down to Florida together. I’ll show you all the sights, we can swim and fish and frolic on the beaches.”

“Work odd jobs for hardly any pay, wash our clothes in salt water, get caught in a storm and almost drown? Sounds amazing. Where do I sign up?”

It did sound amazing, to his ears. Pacey’s trip of a lifetime was filled with great memories, but they would’ve been so much sweeter with her by his side. 

“Seriously. Come out on the boat with me.”

“No.”

“Come on! Just for a day. We’ll sail out to this little island nearby, sit on the sandy beach and work on our tans. I’ll catch fresh fish for your dinner and you can lay around doing absolutely nothing.” 

“Well, when you put it like that...no.”

“Please?” 

She shook her head. “You can give me the puppy dog eyes all you like. It’s not going to work.”

“You’re a hard woman to please, Josephine Potter.”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Well if you change your mind, I’ll be setting sail from slip 24 at the Capeside Marina tomorrow morning at eight a.m.”

“I’m definitely not coming with you. That’s far too early for me to be getting out of bed.”

She unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. He rested his elbow on the roof and leaned down to talk to her.

“So I’ll see you then?”

“In your dreams, Pacey.” She grabbed the door and tried to pull it closed. He moved, letting her go. Joey sat still in the car for a moment, then wound the window down. “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

“Drive safe.”

“I will. Walk safe.”

“I’ll try.”

He took a couple of steps away from her, then spun around as she called his name. 

“Hey, Pacey? Do you really live on your boat?” 

“Only one way to find out! Eight a.m. tomorrow morning.”

“You’re delusional!” she yelled back. 

“Don’t be late. The tides wait for no man!” 

“I’m not a man!” 

Several heads turned as she yelled that, and Joey blushed and quickly wound her window back up. She could see Pacey laughing as he stood in front of the Rialto, his childhood friend’s name in lights overhead, his eyes fixed on her. 

“What are you _doing_ to me, Pacey Witter?” she muttered to herself as she started the car. “Who even _are_ you and why on earth do I like you so much?”


	6. True Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some mild sexual material.

**_Just keep on keeping your eyes on me  
_ ** **_It’s just wrong enough to make it feel right_ **

* * *

That night, when Joey went to bed, she purposely didn’t set an alarm, having convinced herself on the way home that going out on Pacey’s boat tomorrow morning was a terrible idea. Just the two of them, alone for hours on his boat, which probably wasn’t going to be big enough for her to escape from him unless she threw herself overboard. And that wasn’t really a workable plan if they were in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Pacey. It actually surprised her how much she _did_ trust the guy, especially since she barely knew him. It was herself that she didn’t trust. She wasn’t sure she could spend that much time with him without falling into temptation. She couldn’t forget how it had felt when he’d put his arm around her, how it had seemed as if their bodies had been designed to fit together. How she’d shivered when he’d touched her, how his blue eyes looking into hers lit her up on the inside like nobody else ever had. Like David never did. 

She lay down on Bessie’s fold-out couch, but she couldn’t fall asleep. The more time she spent with Pacey, the stronger the desire became to run her hands down his strong arms and across his broad shoulders, to hold his hand in hers, his calluses rough against her palm. To wrap her arms around his waist and let him hold her, to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him… 

_Stop it._ She tried to think about David, but she couldn’t even picture his face clearly. She tried to think about how it felt when he put his arm around her, but she couldn’t remember him ever doing that. She knew that was partly her fault, that she was standoffish and prickly, that she didn’t like public displays of affection, so she’d always shut him down when he’d tried. Not that he’d tried, very often. That was part of what she’d always liked about him. He was never gropey or grabby, never overly affectionate or clingy. He was patient, and understanding, and he hadn’t demanded her affection but had seemed surprised and grateful to receive it. 

Pacey was different. He reached for her constantly, not just physically but in every way. Every fibre of his being seemed to be reaching out toward her, and her body responded in kind. _Pheromones,_ she decided. That had to be it. There was some kind of bizarre chemical reaction between them. That was all it was. No matter that the touch of his fingers on her bare skin had switched something on that she had never felt before, no matter that the way he looked at her made her body respond in a way that she had no experience with. That _good down low tickle_ that other women talked about, that burning desire, the heat between her legs that she’d never known could happen just by someone smiling at you. Love had never come easily to Joey. It was always tied up in trust, and she didn’t trust easily, either. So she’d built a wall around her heart, determined to keep it safe from further pain. David had spent months, years slowly chipping away at that wall, making a space just big enough for him to slip through. Pacey had come along and scaled it effortlessly. 

Joey groaned and flipped over onto her side. Her hand slid down between her legs, seeking out the damp heat that had come from simply thinking about Pacey. Thinking about how it had felt when he touched her back, when he held her hand, when he’d leaned over in the cinema and kissed her cheek so lightly that she’d barely felt it, but she knew she hadn’t imagined it. What would it be like to kiss that man? To have his mouth on her for real, not a mere whisper but a full-on, passionate kiss? To have his arms wrapped around her, pulling her body against his. She could imagine the feel of his breath on her neck, the sound of his voice as he whispered in her ear, as he groaned with satisfaction. Joey’s hand crept beneath her underwear, and her eyelids fluttered as she slipped one finger inside herself, still thinking of him. His bright blue eyes, looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered. She closed her eyes, imagining him there with her. Lying behind her in bed, his hand in place of hers, sliding his large fingers inside her warm centre as he stroked her hair off the back of her neck. Joey’s breath started coming more quickly as imaginary Pacey rolled her onto her back and traced kisses down her chest to her bared breasts, where he sucked a nipple into his mouth and traced its tip with his tongue. Her hands and her imagination took her to a place she had very rarely gone before, and she was just starting to imagine Pacey’s kisses making their way further down her body, seeking a deeper warmth, when she heard the floorboards creak as someone stepped into the adjoining kitchen.

Joey flung herself back onto her side and curled into a ball, her heart pounding. Bodie hummed softly to himself as he rummaged around the kitchen cupboards, poured himself a glass of tap water, then switched off the light and wandered back to bed. 

His unexpected appearance had been a real mood killer, and Joey felt the sexual tension inside her slowly ebb away as she lay still, letting her breathing slowly return to normal. Now that the moment had passed, she couldn’t quite believe that it had even started. How could she have let it get that far? Was it cheating on David to be having these erotic fantasies about another man? 

_It’s just lust_ , she told herself again. _It’s just pheromones._ _It’s weird but it’s fleeting and it’s certainly not worth destroying four years of a solid relationship for._

She closed her eyes, but sleep refused to come. Deep down, she knew that she was lying to herself. It wasn’t just the way Pacey made her feel physically - it was everything else. The way they bantered, the quick and easy back and forth between them, the sweetness and the sarcasm. It was addictive. She’d never met anyone this easy to talk to before. She’d never been so honest with anyone, but somehow, he inspired her to pour her heart out to him, to tell him truths she’d never said aloud, to spend hours of her free time waiting tables for no financial reward - she’d insisted that he give her share of the tips to Amber as recompense for her jealous behavior. He’d taken her to a carnival and brought her sister fried dough, he’d taken her to the movies and walked her home after work. He was the perfect summer romance, but she wasn’t supposed to be having a summer romance. She had a boyfriend. 

But she didn’t have romance. 

Joey woke to the grey light of dawn and the sound of a flushing toilet. Moments later, Bessie waddled into the room, wearing the ugliest floral dress that Joey had ever seen in her young life, and looking like the side of a house.

“Wow, Bess. You’re glowing.”

“Shut up.” Her sister sat down in the easy chair and sighed. “I can’t lie there any longer. My back is killing me, this baby won’t stop kicking me, and I’m so sick of being pregnant. Never do it, Jo. It’s not worth the pain.”

“Just think. You haven’t even given birth yet.” Joey rolled onto her back and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. “Imagine how you’ll feel after that.”

“Don’t even start. I’m a walking pile of shame and regret.”

Joey grinned at her sister. “I understand the regret, but shame? Come on. Bodie’s a nice guy, what’ve you got to be ashamed of?”

“Thank you, Joey,” came a male voice from the kitchen, and Bodie poked his head around the doorway. “But I think you’ll find the source of your sister’s shame if you venture anywhere near the bathroom in the next twenty minutes.”

“Bodie!” Bessie glared at her husband, who winked at her and disappeared back into the kitchen. “I mean, he’s not wrong. I had way too much fibre last night, if you know what I mean.”

“I really, really don’t want to.” Joey shuddered as she stood up, straightening her t-shirt. “I need to take a shower, Bessie.”

“Sorry, Jo. Just give it a while to air out, okay?” 

“Oh, my god. Are you serious?”

“Relax, okay?” Bessie shrugged. “We live by a creek. Go swimming instead. Just don’t pee in it. You’ll kill the fish.”

“You’re disgusting. Did Bodie realise how disgusting you are before he agreed to marry you, or did you save it all up for after the wedding?”

“Fortunately for me, if someone really loves you, they don’t care how disgusting you are,” Bessie said with a wide smile.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Hey, what’re you doing today?”

“I have no plans,” Joey replied. “It’s a nice morning, so I thought I might go for a run before it gets too hot out.”

“Why, so you can get thinner than you already are, while I’m the size of a landed beluga whale? Are you _trying_ to hurt me?” 

“Believe it or not, my fitness regime has nothing to do with you. I like running, okay?”

Bessie pulled a face. “No. Not okay. Do you even remember how many notes I had to write you to get you out of P.E. because you refused to partake in any physical activities growing up?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

“Those were team sports. I hate team sports. You know that.” 

“I do know that. So, how was your date last night?”

“It wasn’t a date," Joey scoffed as she unzipped her suitcase and started looking for her swimsuit. She had no intention of swimming in the creek - it was probably full of leeches - but if she ran toward the ocean she could hit the beach to cool off after her run. 

“Of course not. Silly me.”

“Stop looking at me like that.” Joey pulled her bikini top out of her luggage, and rummaged around for the bottoms.

“I’m not looking at you like anything, _Josephine._ ” She met her sister’s deep scowl with a bright smile. “I’m just so interested in all of this.”

“You need to get a life, Bessie.” To her relief, Joey found the rest of her swimwear. 

“Why would I?” Bessie replied. “I have yours.”

Joey ducked into the baby-to-be’s room to change. The purple stuffed giraffe sat in the corner, watching her as she pulled her swimsuit on, then covered it with a white v-necked tee and cutoff denim shorts. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” she told the stuffed toy. “You wouldn’t understand.”

The giraffe just looked at her sadly, as if imploring her to go to Pacey. Joey turned it to face the wall, then left the room. 

Bessie was still sitting in her easy chair, sipping a cup of chamomile tea. 

“So, when are you seeing him again?” she asked as Joey stuffed her pyjamas back into her suitcase and zipped it shut.

“I’m not.”

“He has asked you out again though, right?” Joey shot her a filthy look, and Bessie grinned. “He has! I knew he would. Where to this time? Car museum? Roller rink? Candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant?” 

“Don’t tease her, Bessie.” Bodie came into the room with a handful of vitamins, which he passed to his wife. “Clearly, it’s none of the above.”

“Thank you, Bodie,” Joey said primly. 

“I mean, it’s obvious if you think about it,” Bodie continued, still looking at Bessie. “The guy owns a boat, remember? He’s asked her to go sailing with him.”

Bessie slapped her hand to her forehead. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?” she exclaimed. “Are you going today? Is that why you’re in a swimsuit?”

“No! I’m not going out with him again,” Joey snapped.

“Why not? I thought you liked the guy.”

“I. Have. A boyfriend. Just because you hate him doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”

“I don’t hate David. I just don’t know what you see in him.”

Joey spun around, having heard enough. “We are not having this conversation.”

“You can’t run away from me forever!” Bessie insisted as Joey headed for the door.

“You’re a beached whale, Bess. I can run away pretty effortlessly.”

“But eventually you’ll come back, and then I’m going to _make_ you talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bessie.” 

“Liar. Ever since you met Pacey, you’ve been crazy about him.”

“Are you kidding me? I am not crazy about him.”

“No? Then why do you talk about him all the time? Pacey said this, Pacey did that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Joey felt her face turn red. “I do not!” 

“Oh, please. Bodie, back me up.”

Her brother-in-law grinned. “Your sister’s right, Joey. You have been doing that. And for the record, I don’t blame you. Pacey’s a good guy.”

“He’s a barely educated, penniless fry cook who lives on a boat!” Joey cried. “We’re polar opposites in almost every way! What future could we possibly have together?”

Her sister and her husband exchanged looks. “Who’s talking about the future?” Bessie asked quietly. “I’m just saying that maybe you should give this a go. See where it leads.”

Joey shook her head and spun on her heel. “I’m going for a run.”

Bessie’s frayed patience suddenly snapped. “Fine. Go. Run away from your feelings, just like you always do.”

“I will!”

“See how far you can get!” Bessie shouted.

Joey yelled back as she flung the front door open. “Trust me, it’ll be a long, long way from you!”

She didn’t intend to run down to the marina. Didn’t plan to arrive there at half past seven, didn’t expect to see Pacey loading supplies onto a cute little blue and white sailboat. 

At least, that’s what she told herself. 

He saw her arrive and broke into a bright smile. “You’re early!” he greeted her happily. “I like punctuality in a woman.”

She wished she was immune to his charm, but one look at his face and her body lit up like a Christmas tree. _Dammit._ She wanted to douse herself with cold water, and seriously considered jumping into the water off the dock, except that she wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t end up tangled in some boat’s moorings, and she wasn’t in the mood to drown herself. 

“I’m not--” 

“Hand me that box, would you?” Pacey motioned to a flat wooden box sitting on the dock alongside a cooler, a couple of beach towels and a duffel bag with the Ice House logo printed on it. 

Sweat was trickling down Joey’s back from her run, and she knew that if she stopped to talk to him for too long, he’d somehow charm her into going with him. Which she could not do. But she also couldn’t say no to him, so she picked up the box.

“Pacey, this isn’t what you think. I can’t--” She frowned as she handed the box to him. It was surprisingly heavy. “What’s in here?”

He grinned at her. “It’s a surprise. You’ll find out later.”

“Is it for me?”

“Well, it can't be a surprise for _me_ , since I packed it,” he replied. “I think you’ll like it, though. At least, I hope you will.” He bit his lip nervously. “If not, then I’ll have to find my own use for it. Or find another woman with an interest in such things.”

Okay, she could admit it. Her curiosity was piqued. She tried to lift the lid and peek inside as he took hold of it, but Pacey snatched it out of the way. 

“Uh uh, oh no you don’t! No peeking.” 

“I can’t come with you today.”

Pacey frowned, his disappointment plain. “Why not? Is everything okay with Bessie?”

Just when she thought she couldn’t be more attracted to him, he’d go and say something like that. It had taken David five months to even remember her sister’s name. 

“She’s fine. I just don’t think I should.”

Pacey inhaled slowly through his nose, then let out his breath in a gusty sigh. “Joey, I know things feel complicated between us. But they don’t have to be. I like you, I’m sure that much is obvious by now. But I am also completely capable of keeping my hands to myself, and I’d really like some company today.” He sensed her resolution wavering. “Please?”

She looked at the cooler at her feet. “I don’t know, Pacey. I like you, too. That’s kind of the problem.”

“I thought we’d agreed to just be friends.” 

“We did.”

“So friends go sailing together all the time.”

“They do?”

“Around here, yeah. There's not much else going on in Capeside.” 

“Well, there’s the roller rink. I hear that’s hopping at this time of the year.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t open until five.”

“Dang.”

“Come on, Joey. It’s a beautiful day. You can’t tell me you’d rather sit around your sister’s place knitting baby hats and making homemade granola bars than be out on the water, exploring the open ocean,” he said in what he hoped was a persuasive tone.

He wanted to kiss her so badly it was hard to even look in her direction. But going sailing without her would be a thousand times worse, now that he’d imagined a trip with her on board.

She set her jaw stubbornly. “You forgot getting seasick and sunburnt.”

“I brought sunscreen. And sea bands,” he said. “They’re right there in the duffel bag at your feet. You can check if you want.”

Joey picked up the duffel bag and threw it across to him. Pacey caught it with a grin. “Is that a yes?”

“Promise to behave yourself?”

“Of course.”

“To keep your hands to yourself all day, and not make any flirtatious or ill-advised remarks?”

“I can't promise that. I’m a red-blooded American male. But I do give you full permission to throw me overboard, should the temptation ever take you.”

“Deal.”

He broke into the widest smile she’d ever seen. “Really? You’ll come with me?”

“Don’t get too excited. You may regret this decision,” she said, passing him the towels and the cooler. “I have it on good authority that I can be very annoying in close quarters.”

“I’ll take that risk.” He watched as she started to step onto the boat, and quickly cleared his throat. “Woah, woah, woah. Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She looked up at him through her long eyelashes, and Pacey had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat. Good god, she was stunning. Even at this time of the morning, with her face flushed and her hair damp with sweat and not a scrap of makeup on her beautiful face. He’d never seen anyone as gorgeous as this woman. 

“Forgetting what?”

“I know she’s not a big boat, Jo, but protocol still applies...”

For a moment, she just looked confused. Then she broke into a smile, and held out her hand to him. “Permission to come aboard?”

Pacey grinned so hard he thought his face would split in half. He took her hand and helped her onto the deck of the _True Love_ , and everything felt right with the world. 

“Permission granted.”

They set sail a few minutes later, Pacey using the outboard motor to get them into the deeper water, then rigging the sails and heading for a small island just off the coast. Joey helped where she could, although her sailing knowledge was slim, but he didn’t mind. He just liked having her there, watching him. 

“You said you bought this boat when you were sixteen?”

“Yep.”

“I guess that explains the name.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“ _True Love_?” She pulled a face. “Kinda high on the schmaltz factor, Pace.”

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.” He leaned against the wheel for a moment as the boat glided through the smooth water. “It was right after Andie left. I was heartbroken, so…”

“So you went out and bought a boat?” she asked incredulously. “How did you afford it?”

“She was pretty cheap,” he admitted. “She’d been all bashed up in a storm, and was sitting in a junkyard, ready to be pulled apart for scrap. I was biking past one day and saw her, and I just knew.” 

“Knew what?”

“That we needed each other.” He winced at how lame that sounded. “Well, I knew that I needed a project, and she deserved a second chance.”

“And you called her _True Love_?”

“It’s a movie reference,” he shrugged. “From _The Philadelphia Story._ Dawson made me watch it around that time, and the name stuck out to me. I guess I hoped that if I poured everything I felt into the boat, then maybe she’d come back.” He shook his head ruefully. “It sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

“It’s not stupid,” Joey told him. “It’s sweet. So how come she didn’t?”

“Come back? Her dad wouldn’t let her. She wasn’t...well. Mentally. She’d been through a lot of trauma, and her mom had some serious mental health issues and somehow it fell onto Andie to manage that. And run the household while her dad was away working, and keep an eye on her brother, and still get straight As so she could get into Harvard. Lucky for her, she was wicked smart.”

“She sounds incredibly driven.”

“She was. Or is, I guess. I don’t know what she’s doing now.” 

“She never came back at all?” Joey asked. “Not even to visit?”

“No. She wrote me a lot at first, and I scrawled love letters back to her, but slowly the letters became shorter and fewer and farther between. She was…” He hesitated, wondering how much of Andie’s story was his to tell. He’d probably told Joey too much already, but it was too late now. In for a penny, in for a pound, as his grandmother used to say. Whatever that meant. “She was in a facility for a while. I think it helped her, because she did eventually send me a card and say she was doing well, but that she wouldn’t be coming back and that it was best for her mental health if she stayed in Providence, close to the facility and her family, where she could get the support she needed.” 

It still killed him that he couldn’t give her that support, that he hadn’t been enough to come back for. Looking back on it, almost ten years later, he thought he understood. He wasn’t equipped to help her, and she’d needed professional help. But it still stung.

“She sent you a _card_?” Joey’s simmering anger at Andie’s transgression jolted him out of his daze. “She couldn’t even call to break up with you over the phone?”

Her anger soothed him, somehow. “Guess not.”

“Aren’t you furious?” she asked. “Doesn’t that make you angry, that she dismissed you so easily?”

“Gets better,” he said with a wry smile. “It was a birthday card.” 

“She broke up with you on your _birthday_?!” Joey’s outrage was full-blown now. “I can’t believe that girl!”

“Hey, relax. It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

She shot him a skeptical look. “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it. She moved on, got better. That’s all I ever wanted for her.”

Joey shook her head slowly. “You’re a good guy, Pacey.” She leaned back against the seat and gazed up at the sails. “And that girl was clearly dumber than a bag of rocks.”

“She got into Harvard,” he reminded her. “She can’t be that stupid.”

“Stupid people get into Ivy League schools all the time. Trust me.” Joey flipped her hair back over her shoulder, the scowl still etched onto her face. “Was she your first?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Sure. That’s what I meant.”

He chuckled. “Yes. And, no.”

“Which one?”

“Both. First girlfriend. Not my first...the other thing.”

“Oh.” Joey leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands. “Tell me more, sailor.”

“Trust me, Joey. You _really_ don’t want to hear that story.”

“Try me.”

“Nope.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Please?’

“You want to tell me about _your_ first time?”

He didn’t miss the way her face darkened for a moment, or how her eyes danced away from his. “Years ago. Trucker named Bubba.”

“Ding ding ding. I smell bullshit.”

Her mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “Okay, fine. I was at a party, I got drunk, I met a boy, I made a mistake. Your turn.”

He couldn’t do it. “I really don’t want to tell you this.”

“You know, the harder you try to hide this from me, the more I’m gonna want to know.”

Pacey sighed. “Can I tell you later?”

“Why?” 

“Because,” he said, raising a finger to point at a small island to their right. “We’re almost there.”

They dropped anchor in the shallow harbour and reefed the sails, then Pacey cast a line off the back of the boat. 

“You do like fish, right?”

“Actually, I’m allergic to seafood.” His head spun around, eyes wide. Joey burst out laughing. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I love fish.” 

“You vixen.”

She waggled her eyebrows at him. “You have no idea.”

Despite their stated determination to be just friends, the flirting hadn’t stopped. She wasn’t sure either of them knew how to stop it, nor did they want to. 

“So. What now?” she asked.

“Now we wait.”

“Oh.” She looked around. “Guess I should have brought a book.”

“There’s one below deck, if you want to go get it.”

“Really?” Joey stood up, surprised. “You own a book?” She started walking barefoot across the boat, then paused and looked back at him. “It’s not a porno, is it?”

“No. Those are under the mattress, if you want to take a look.”

“Ugh. Gross.”

“It’s perfectly natural!” he called after her as she went down the steps into the hold. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

It was bigger than she’d expected down there, but was still a very small space. There was a bench seat and table that clearly folded down into a narrow bed. Storage cupboards were tucked into the prow of the boat, and the galley consisted of a camping stove and a large bowl as a stand in for a sink. A hammock suspended from the low ceiling had been tied up out of the way, and a familiar green teddy bear with a demonic expression peeked out from the edge of it. Joey flicked the ugly bear on the forehead, then turned around, taking everything in. She’d expected to feel claustrophobic down there, but there was something cozy and comfortable about the small space. It didn’t take her long to find Pacey’s book, sitting on a shelf with a playing card marking his place. She picked it up and raised her eyebrows in surprise at the title. 

She came back up the steps to see him sitting behind his fishing rod, staring out at the water. 

“I have to admit, this is not what I was expecting,” she said, holding up the book. “I did not have you pegged as someone who’d read fairy tales.”

“I don’t. Gretchen gave it to me.”

“Gretchen?”

“My sister.”

“Oh.” Joey sat down next to him and crossed her legs, flipping the book open. “What possessed her to do such a thing?”

Pacey grinned. “She read one of the stories and thought I’d like it.” 

“And did you?”

“I think so. I’m not sure I understood it, though.”

“Was it this one?” Joey held up the book and showed him the title page of _The Tinderbox._

“Yeah. Have you read it?”

“No. What’s it about?”

“A tinder box.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him childishly. Somehow, she even made that look sexy. “Well, duh. Guess I’ll have to read it myself.” 

She removed the bookmark and tucked it between her fingers, then began to read. Pacey watched her from the corner of his eye as she became engrossed in the story, although her reading was punctuated by the occasional scoff or eye roll. Eventually, she slapped the book shut and looked at Pacey. 

“That was a terrible story.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“Are you kidding? That soldier was an asshole. Why would your sister want you to read this?”

“You’d have to ask her that question,” he shrugged. 

“Surely you must have _some_ idea.”

Pacey started to shake his head, then thought back. A memory flickered. “It was a conversation we’d had,” he said. “About dogs.”

“With eyes as big as saucers?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “It was right after our family dog died.”

“And this was supposed to make you feel better?” Joey asked incredulously.

“Well, it’s a story about dogs being incredibly loyal to their master.”

Joey snorted. “Only because the tinderbox made them. Those poor dogs deserved better.”

“I always thought so, too.”

Joey smiled sadly as she picked the book up again and flipped through the pages, then stopped with a muffled cry. “Oh I remember this one.”

Pacey leaned over to look at the page. “ _The Little Match Girl_.”

“Have you read it?’

“No. Read it to me?”

“It’s really sad,” she told him. “I don’t want to ruin the mood.” She flipped a few more pages, and stopped again. “What about _The Little Mermaid_?”

“I’ve seen the movie. I know how it ends.”

“Me, too. But I don’t think I’ve ever read the source material.”

“Go on, then.”

Joey cleared her throat, and shifted around so she was sitting sideways on the bench seat with her legs stretched out before her. Her bare toes, the nails painted red, brushed against Pacey’s thigh. He wished he had the self-control to move away, but he did not. 

_“_ _Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above_ ,” she read. “ _There dwell the Sea King and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea King.”_

Pacey felt his body relax as she read. Her expressive voice allowed him to see the scene she described as clearly as if it was laid out before him. She paused in her reading, and he turned his head to look at her. 

“Something wrong?”

“No. I like it. It’s just…” She bit her lip, frowning. “It makes me feel bad about what we’re doing.”

“What? Invading the mermaids’ territory?”

“No.” She jabbed his leg with her toes, and he put a hand on her foot to still it. Joey swallowed hard, and drew her foot back toward her. Pacey let go. “ _Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches,_ ” she repeated. “Don’t you feel bad that we’re about to eat one?”

“At this rate, I think we’ll be lucky to catch one,” Pacey replied. “Go on, keep reading.”

Joey’s mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. “Okay. _Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are of the clearest amber…”_

She read the story as Pacey fished, although he quickly forgot to care about the rod and line as he became enraptured by her voice. It wasn’t the story that held his attention - it was a tragic, bizarre tale - but the way she read it aloud, the voices she gave the characters, that brought it to life. Even her occasional eye rolls and side mutterings about the machinations of the patriarchy added to the experience.

As she reached the end of the story, the sadness in her voice made his heart ache. She read the final line, and laid the book down next to her. 

“Well, that was depressing.”

“Not at all like the movie,” he agreed.

“Nope. I guess Walt Disney wasn’t too worried about being true to his source material,” she mused, leaning back and resting an elbow on the side of the boat. “I think I prefer this version, though.”

“Really? You like the story of a girl giving up everything she is and has for some guy, just on the off chance that he’ll fall in love with her? Then he treats her like crap, and she still loves him, even when he doesn’t love her back, even when he falls for someone he barely knows?”

“It feels more realistic,” she muttered. “Unrequited love is a real thing, you know.”

“Yeah, I do.” 

Her toes were touching his thigh again. He reached down and rested his hand on her slim ankle, his thumb softly brushing her skin. 

This time, she didn’t pull away. 

“So, now what?” Joey asked, after swallowing the last of her sandwich, relieved that Pacey hadn’t relied entirely on his ability to fish in order to provide them with lunch. 

“Whatever you like. We could sail closer to the island, swim to the beach and go for a hike, or just lie in the sun and burn ourselves to a crisp,” he suggested. “Or, since you’ve been such a good girl so far, I could give you your present.”

She rolled her eyes, but clapped her hands in faux excitement. “Present present present!” 

He disappeared below deck, then reappeared with the flat wooden box that she’d loaded onto the boat earlier. He set it in her lap, and Joey slowly opened it. Her mouth fell open in surprise, and she stared up at Pacey.

“Are you serious? This is for me?”

He shrugged, pleased with her response. “You said you liked to paint, so...”

“When I was fifteen.” She pulled the box of watercolour paints, brushes and sketchbook out of the box. It was everything she needed. “I haven’t painted in years.”

“I know. But I figured that since I never knew you when you were fifteen, maybe I could get you to tap into that wide-eyed, innocent Joey Potter. You can show me what she was all about.” 

“She wasn’t that wide-eyed,” Joey muttered, still staring at the art supplies. “Pacey, you’re unbelievable, you know that? As soon as I think I’ve got you all figured out, you go and do something outrageous that completely challenges me in a way that nobody else would even think of.”

His heart swelled with pride. It was an unfamiliar feeling. “It was nothing. Really.”

“Stop it. Give yourself credit. You’ve earned it.” She ran her fingers over the textured paper. “I just hope you’re not expecting me to produce some kind of artistic masterpiece.”

“Believe me, Josephine, my expectations are extremely low.” Her jaw dropped as he grinned at her. “Call it the price of admission for this boat trip. You get a day out on the water, I get a piece of art to hang below decks.”

“Well, at least down there nobody will see it.”

He shook his head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

She was still smiling. “I’m here to bring you the hard truths, Pacey.” The boat was rocking gently on the waves. “I don’t know if I can paint here,” she said. “There’s too much movement.”

“Then let’s go ashore.”

Half an hour later, she stood on the beach and wrung out her hair as salt water ran off her sun-baked skin. Joey couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. The bay was secluded, the sand golden and the ocean a sparkling blue. The warm smell of the pine trees permeated the air, mixing her favourite scent with his, and she smiled happily as she picked up her towel and wrapped it around her waist. It was the perfect afternoon, and she couldn’t have asked for better company. 

Glancing over, she noticed that Pacey was staring at her. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

She arched her eyebrows as she shook her damp hair back over her shoulder, purposely spraying him with it. He didn’t flinch. 

“Come on, Pacey.” She unwound the towel from her waist and started drying off her salty skin. “Barnacle for your thoughts?”

He chuckled, looking at her with that glint in his blue eyes that did strange things to her insides. “I was just thinking that this is pretty much a dream come true for me.”

Joey raised her eyebrows. “Really? Which part?”

“All of it.” He leaned back on his hands, staring out at the ocean. “A deserted island, a beautiful woman, a distant horizon. No work commitments, no family drama. Just you and me, playing in the sun, sleeping in the light of the full moon...”

“Sounds idyllic.” She watched rivulets of water run down his bronzed bare chest. Blinking hard, Joey tore her eyes away. “Until we starve to death.”

“I _do_ know how to fish.”

“I have yet to see any evidence of that,” she reminded him. 

“Give me time, woman.”

Joey finished drying herself off and laid out her own towel, then sat down and pulled the box of art supplies onto her lap. He watched as she set out the paper and paints, pouring her water bottle into a small beaker he’d supplied. The box also held a few pencils, a pencil sharpener and eraser. He really had thought of everything.

“What’re you going to paint?” he asked curiously.

She lifted one eyebrow. “Give me time, man.” 

Pacey chuckled. “Okay, okay.” He stretched out onto his back, flinging an arm across his face to dim the sun’s bright rays. “Wake me when you’re finished.”

“You’re just going to fall asleep?”

“Yep. I’ve had a long week.” He lifted his elbow and peeked at her. “Unless you’ve got other ideas for activities we could do while prostrate…”

“Shut up, Pacey.” She flicked water off her paintbrush in his direction, and he screwed his eyes shut, laughing. “Go to sleep.”

She’d told him to do it, but was still surprised when his breathing slowed and became heavier, and he started softly snoring. Joey watched him for a moment, then looked out at the _True Love_ , bobbing in the water. Taking up her pencil, she started to sketch the outline of the small boat’s sails. 

The sun was setting behind the town as they sailed back towards Capeside. The temperature dropped quickly on the open water, and Joey shivered as goosebumps rose on her bare skin. 

“Are you cold?”

“A little.”

“Here, take the wheel.”

Joey reached over and reluctantly put her hand on it. “You must really trust me, to put your boat’s life in my hands.”

“It’s a well-known fact that I’m the village idiot,” Pacey replied, jumping down the steps into the belly of his boat. “Maybe I’m just proving it.”

When he returned moments later, with a sweatshirt in hand, Joey was scowling at him. 

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

“Like what?” He handed the sweatshirt to her, and she took it from him, relinquishing her grip on the wheel. 

“You’re not an idiot, Pacey.”

“Very kind of you to say,” he replied flippantly.

“I mean it. I know you dropped out of high school, but that doesn’t mean you’re stupid. Just that you’re not academic, and trust me, I’ve spent enough time around the academically-minded to last me a lifetime.”

He said nothing as she shook the sweatshirt out and looked at it, then pulled it over her head with a smirk.

“I could’ve gone to Capeside High.” She pumped her fists in a mock cheer. “Rah, rah. Go Panthers.”

Pacey shook his head. “Go Minutemen.”

Her eyes widened. “ _Please_ tell me you’re kidding.”

“Sorry.”

“I hate this country sometimes.”

“You and me both.”

He liked how she looked in his sweater, though. It made him think about what she’d have been like in high school. They probably wouldn’t have been friends - their paths would never have crossed, given her passion for academia and his penchant for getting detention - but he would’ve seen her walking past in the hallway, and probably would’ve harboured a desperate, unrequited crush on her for the entirety of his school experience.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, noticing his pensive expression.

“That I wish I’d known you when I was fifteen.”

Joey smiled softly. “Same. Fifteen-year-old me could really have used a friend like you.”

He grinned. “Likewise. I mean, if you’d been in school every day, I would’ve been way more motivated to attend.”

Joey laughed. “We wouldn’t have been in any of the same classes, you know.”

“Honor roll, right? Maybe you could’ve convinced me to study.” 

“I said I was smart, not that I could perform miracles.” 

He chuckled. The sky turned from gold to pink in the distance, and the _True Love_ sped across the waves towards home.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Pacey?”

“Considering our relationship thus far has been built on such interrogations, sure,” he replied. “Fire away.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes.”

“With that girl Andie?”

“Yeah. I know I was just a kid, but...I felt it.” 

“How did it feel?”

Their eyes met in the fading light. He wondered why she was asking him this, but he gave her an honest answer. 

“It’s the best feeling in the world,” he eventually said. “Knowing that someone out there cares about you just as much as you care about them.” He watched her slowly nod. “And you do care. You care more about them than you do about yourself. More about their happiness than your own, more about their success, their life, their future.”

She frowned. “I don’t think that’s healthy, Pacey.”

“Love isn’t meant to be healthy. It’s stupid and it’s blind and all those other things that people write songs about.”

“But don’t you think that love should be equal? That you should both care about your future, your happiness, your success?”

“Is that what you have with David?” He didn’t miss the way her eyes darted to the side when he said his name. “Are you really happy with him?”

“I’m safe with him.” She returned her gaze to his, her jaw setting determinedly. 

“Is that all you need?” he asked. “Safety? Is that more important than love?”

 _Yes._ She bit back the word, knowing he’d use it against her. “I _do_ love him.”

Pacey shook his head slowly. “Ding ding ding. Bullshit.”

“Oh, really? What would you know? You just said you haven’t been in love since you were a teenager, Pacey!”

“And you haven’t _ever_ been in love!” he bit back. “So maybe I do know more about it than you do. You’re not always the smartest one in the room, Potter. You might have the brain and the book smarts but you know nothing about true love.”

“Oh, no? You think I don’t know love, just because I’ve never--” She broke off. “Wait...”

“You just said it.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“But you said it. So you must have been thinking it, or the words wouldn’t have been there for you to use.”

She scowled at him. “I hate you. I hate you for bringing me out here and calling me out like this and forcing me to figure out what it all means!” 

“Would you rather I left you alone to waste your life on some man who doesn’t appreciate you?”

“How dare you! You don’t even know him!”

“I know he doesn’t make you happy,” Pacey countered. “Not really, or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have even entertained the idea of coming sailing with me. You wouldn’t have been flirting with me since the moment we first met, and you wouldn’t keep coming back to see me, even when you know you shouldn’t.” 

“Stop it.”

“I can’t. I have to know what this means, Jo.”

“It means nothing! I’m just confused, and exhausted, and I want to go home.”

They sailed back into Capeside in near silence, Pacey occasionally asking her to help with the boat, but not speaking to her otherwise. Joey hated the tension between them, hated that she couldn’t just run away from him like she always had before when things got difficult - but at the same time, she couldn’t help wishing that they could’ve stayed out on the boat all night. There was something wonderful about being on the open water, and she completely understood Pacey’s love for it. In another life, that could’ve been her, too.

It was dark when he pulled up outside Bessie’s house. She unclipped her seatbelt and reached for the door handle, but his voice stopped her.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Joey.”

She stared at her reflection in the glass. “I don’t want to fight, either,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry that I yelled at you.”

She turned back to face him. “And I’m sorry that I can’t be what you want me to be. I really wish I could, and I want you to know that. You deserve to know that.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

She opened her door and stepped out, and Pacey followed suit. 

“What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your door.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t _have_ to. I’m trying to adhere to common courtesy.”

“You’re just hoping for a goodnight kiss,” she teased.

He shrugged. “Is that really too much to ask?”

“You’re impossible.”

The automatic light came on as she stepped onto the porch, then turned and looked back at him. He was waiting at the bottom of the steps, his blue eyes gazing at her. 

“Thanks for coming sailing with me, Jo. And thanks for the painting. I loved it.”

“Any time.” She hesitated, her hand resting on the door handle. “I drew you another picture. It’s in the back of the sketch book.”

“You did?” 

“Yeah.” Joey opened the door and stepped inside. “Good night, Mr Witter.”

“Night, Miss Potter.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and Pacey sighed heavily as he turned around and walked back to his car.

Bessie was sitting on the couch watching TV when Joey walked into the room. 

“Finally! I was about to send out a search party.”

“I went sailing.”

“I figured as much. Oh, before I forget, David called.”

Guilt roiled inside her stomach. “What’d you tell him?”

“That you were out on a date.” Joey shot her a panicked look, and Bessie laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding. I just said you went to the library.”

“On a Monday night?”

“You're a nerd, Joey. It tracks.” 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Well, he seemed to buy it.” Bessie watched her sister shuck off her shoes and pull her windswept hair back into a messy ponytail. “So, how was it? Tell me everything.”

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, Jo. I have to live vicariously through someone, and none of the soap operas I’m currently addicted to are quite as exciting as my baby sister cheating on her boyfriend with a sleazy bartender.”

“He’s not sleazy, or a bartender,” she snapped immediately, then felt her skin flush red. “And I’m not cheating on David.” 

“But you want to,” Bessie said. “Or you wouldn’t keep going out with this guy.”

Joey pulled her hair elastic out and slid it around her wrist. “I’m going to have a shower.” 

Bessie grinned. “A nice cold one?” she teased. 

“I hate you.” She headed down the hallway as her sister called after her.

“Nice sweatshirt, by the way!”

“Bite me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops that was a long one! It could probably use more editing but yolo, it's almost midnight and I have work tomorrow.
> 
> My apologies to Andie, I leaned into the birthday curse idea and probably threw her under the bus as a result. 
> 
> This chapter contains quoted material from "The Little Mermaid" by Hans Christian Andersen and the line "you must have been thinking it, or the words wouldn’t have been there for you to use" is from a novel (I forget which one) by Patricia Leitch. And (as always) song lyrics from "Sparks Fly" by Taylor Swift, plus various quoted (mostly repurposed) lines of dialogue from "Dawson's Creek" - I count at least 14 in this chapter. Let me know how many you find ;)


	7. The Waiting Room

**_You touch me once and it's really something_ ** **_  
_** **_You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be_ **

* * *

Early the next morning, as the clock in the living room ticked over to three a.m., Joey was woken by the sound of hurried footsteps. She opened blurry eyes to see Bodie flipping the overhead light on as he rushed toward the front door with a duffel bag in hand. 

“Your sister’s waters just broke,” he said as he flung the door open and threw the bag out onto the porch. “The baby’s coming!”

For someone who was usually incredibly cool, calm and collected, Bodie was a bundle of nerves as they drove to the hospital. Joey followed his car, driving Bessie’s battered VW Beetle, adrenalin prickling her skin. As she passed the turn-off to the marina, she could see the security lights reflecting off the still water. Pacey was out there somewhere, on his boat, probably sound asleep. She wished she could veer off and pick him up, that she could have his steady, reassuring presence as an anchor during this turbulent time. He probably would’ve done it, too. Would’ve dropped everything and gone with her, if she’d asked him to. But she had no right, and no real reason to request his presence. So she drove on through the darkness, following the red rear lights of Bodie’s station wagon.

She’d called David the night before, her palm sweating as she gripped the phone and made small talk, trying to sound nonchalant. She’d told him that no, Bessie hadn’t had the baby yet; that yes, she was having a nice time; that the small town of Capeside was picturesque but too quiet for her taste. She’d started to tell him that she’d rekindled her interest in art, intending to keep just how that had happened fuzzy, but he’d only made vaguely interested noises before changing the subject to a legal case that he was working on. Joey tried to pay attention, but she couldn’t remember why she should care. In an attempt to alleviate her own boredom, she’d tried teasing him, aiming for some of the easy banter that she shared with Pacey, but that had only resulted in an awkward silence on the other end of the phone, then a slightly petulant claim that she wasn’t taking his work seriously. In the past, David’s moments of insecurity had been attractive to her - she’d so often felt intimidated by his maturity that the times he’d let his inner childishness take the lead had comforted her, had made her feel as if they were on more equal footing - but now she was just annoyed. She’d apologised for not taking him seriously, claimed she was exhausted, and made an excuse to hang up the phone. Joey had gone to bed, only to find herself haunted once again by thoughts of Pacey.

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The True Love rocked soothingly on the water, but nothing could lull him back to sleep. After he’d dropped Joey off, he’d gone back to check the sketchbook for the drawing she said she’d left him. He’d found it almost instantly, a light pencil sketch of him sprawled out on the sand, his arm flung across his face, the sheer cliffs behind him disappearing into a blur of pine trees. It was a quick draft, the details left unfinished...just like them. With a heavy sigh, Pacey had set the sketchbook aside and laid down, trying to fall asleep. 

It hadn’t worked. It was now after three in the morning, and he’d only managed brief periods of fitful slumber. He was frustrated, both sexually and emotionally. He’d managed to quiet his body’s longing with his own hand and the imagined image of her beautiful face staring down at him, lips parted as her slender body moved over his, but even after gaining satisfaction, he was still restless. He wished he could call her. He wished she was there next to him, her naked body pressed against his, her long hair splayed across his chest, her lips whispering against his ear. He wished she’d never walked into his life in the first place and turned everything upside down. His world was never going to be the same again, now that he knew she was somewhere in it.

Pacey might not know much, but he did know that. 

“Excuse me?” Joey stood up as a nurse strolled through the waiting area. “Any news on Bessie Potter?”

“Not yet.” The grey-haired woman looked her up and down, her lips pursed. “These things take time, you know.”

Joey bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from snapping back at the nurse, who she knew was just trying to do her job. She sat back down, her body aching from the hard seating. She’d been sitting there for hours, and now that her tension had eased slightly, her stomach was protesting at its lack of sustenance. She hadn’t been able to find her purse on her way out of the house, so in her haste had left without it. There was a vending machine down the hall, but with no change in her pockets, that wasn't going to be any help to her, and while she was pretty certain Bodie would’ve thought to pack some food into the enormous duffel bag he’d toted into the hospital, his homemade vegan granola bars didn’t hold much appeal - although if she got much hungrier, she might have to bribe a nurse to go and fetch her one.

Joey reached into her pocket again, as if money was going to magically appear just because she wanted it to be there, but the only things she did have were a used Kleenex, a hair elastic, and Bessie’s car keys. She jingled the keys around her finger, then stood up and went to the front desk. 

“I need to go and find something to eat.”

“There’s a vending machine down the hall, or the cafeteria’s on level five,” the receptionist said without looking up from her computer screen.

“I know, but I didn’t bring any money. I’m not asking you for a loan,” she added quickly as the woman shot her an irritated look. “I’m just running out to check if my sister left any change in the car.” 

The woman looked at her computer screen again. “Okay.”

“If anything happens while I’m gone…”

“I should send someone out to the parking lot to call for you?” the woman asked impatiently, clearly having no intention of doing any such thing. 

Joey shot her a withering glare, and had the satisfaction of seeing the woman blanch slightly under the weight of the famed Potter scowl. “No. I was just going to say, if Bodie or Bessie is asking for me, that's where I’ll be.”

“I’ll be sure to make a note of that.” 

The woman clicked her mouse in a pointed sort of way, and Joey seethed internally as she turned and headed for the double doors. 

She punched the button on the elevator, hoping she could remember where she’d left the car. The doors opened, and she stepped across the threshold without looking up, until the person exiting put a hand on her arm and stopped her in her tracks. 

Joey looked up into a pair of kind blue eyes, and her mouth fell open. 

“Pacey?”

“Morning, Potter.” He looked a little rumpled, his hair dishevelled and his six o’clock shadow was darker than usual, but he was still ridiculously attractive. The rumbling in her belly shifted lower, turned into something else entirely.

“What are you doing here?” she managed to ask. 

Pacey held up two cups of coffee and a large paper bag as she backed off the elevator before the doors closed on them. “Uh, I brought you breakfast,” he said nervously. “I didn’t know if you liked muffins or bagels, so I got both. And I wasn’t sure whether you took milk in your coffee, so one of these is black as the night and the other is basically just creamer--”

“Pacey.” She interrupted him and he clammed up. “I just...how did you know?”

“That you were here? I went to Bessie’s this morning to return your purse, which you left on my boat yesterday, by the way, but you weren’t home, and then your neighbour was walking their dog past and she said the whole family had rushed out of the house in the early hours of the morning, and she figured Bessie had gone into labour, so I called the hospital to find out if she was here, and they said yes. And then I was hungry, so I stopped for food, and I thought maybe you were hungry too, so...” 

“You’re babbling,” she interrupted again, and met his hopeful expression with a warm smile. “And you were one-hundred percent right. I’m starving.” 

Joey reached out and took one of the cups of coffee from the tray in his hand, and he let out a relieved sigh. 

“So you don’t mind?”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “No, it’s better than fine. It’s amazing.” She meant it. She’d never met anyone so thoughtful. On an impulse, she leaned in and kissed his rough cheek. “Thank you.”

Pacey’s smile, impossibly, grew wider. “If I’d known that was the reception I’d get, I’d have brought you an entire buffet.”

Laughing, she led the way back into the waiting area. “I’m starving, and I had no money with me,” she explained as they sat down. 

“Ah. I can fix that, too.” He pulled her purse out of his back pocket and handed it to her. 

“Thank you.” She took a sip of coffee and let out a contented sigh. “That seems to be the only thing I ever say to you, but I truly am grateful.”

“And you truly are welcome. Here.” He opened the paper bag and held it out to her. 

Joey reached in and snagged a bagel, cinnamon raisin with a thick layer of cream cheese in the centre. The part of her brain that told her that there was nothing healthy about this choice of breakfast was drowned out by the gnawing hunger devouring her insides. She took a bite and closed her eyes in near delirium.

Pacey helped himself to a muffin, and started peeling off the paper casing. “So, how's Bessie doing?”

Joey chewed through her first mouthful, swallowing thickly. “I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything,” she muttered, glaring at the nurses’ station. “Just keep saying that _these things take time,_ as if I don’t already know that. I am next of kin, you know. I have the right to be kept informed.”

“I’m sure if there was anything to worry about, they’d have told you already,” he said. 

Joey snorted doubtfully. They sat in silence as she polished off the bagel and coffee, then let out a contented sigh.

“That was so good. I feel so much better.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he said, rustling the bag. 

“I’m going to let this one sink in first.” She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, hands folded over her stomach. “When do you have to go to work?”

“Not ‘til this afternoon.”

Hope surged within her, but she stubbornly pushed it down. “Well, I’m sure you don’t want to spend the entire day sitting here with me, so feel free to leave whenever you like.”

Pacey brushed muffin crumbs off his shirt and stretched his legs out in front of him. “You really know how to make a man feel welcome,” he teased. Joey opened one eye and looked at him warily. “Besides, why would I leave when I’m sitting in a room full of beautiful women?”

One of the nurses in question shot him a smile as she walked past, the sway of her hips becoming slightly more pronounced as she became aware of his gaze. 

“You’ve got to be desperate to be trying to pick up women in a maternity unit,” Joey snarked. 

“I’m not,” he retorted. “Although there is one woman, in particular, that I can’t keep my eyes off.” 

Her heart fluttered, until she opened her eyes fully and saw that he still had his eyes on the nurse, who was sneaking glances at him as she filled in information on her clipboard. She was certainly pretty, Joey had to admit. She had strawberry blond hair, kind green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her open, friendly face. She was also average height, with large breasts and soft curves in all the right places. As opposed to Joey herself, who knew she was too skinny and too tall and who was definitely lacking anything impressive in the breast department. She knew that she fit the magazine ideal of a model’s figure, but ever since her college boyfriend had described sleeping next to her as _cuddling up to a bag of bones_ , she’d been self-conscious about how thin she was. She’d been taller than all the boys in her class until she was fourteen, a fact that had caused her to develop a slumped posture as she tried not to draw undue attention to herself, and a mouthful of braces and a bad haircut hadn’t helped matters. Even when she’d hit puberty and started to grow into her lanky frame, she’d just been seen as the bookish nerdy girl who got straight-As and didn’t have many friends. It wasn’t until she’d gone to college that Joey had been given a chance to reinvent herself, and by then, the attention she was getting from boys was overwhelming, causing her to retreat further into herself. She knew that she was objectively pretty, but she’d never really felt beautiful. And she knew for a fact that she lacked sex appeal.

Joey closed her eyes again so she didn’t have to watch Pacey making flirtatious eye contact with the nurse. Her arm rested against his. The scent of his cologne barely masked the smell of the ocean and dried sweat and sunscreen that was radiating off him. She wondered if he’d even bothered to shower that morning. The fact it was even a question should have disgusted her, but for some reason, when it was him, it didn’t. 

_Girl, you’ve got it bad._

As her stomach slowly digested the coffee and bagel, Joey felt herself starting to doze off. At first she fought it, but eventually she slipped under, her interrupted night’s sleep finally catching up on her. 

“Hey, Joey? Wake up.” 

She opened blurry eyes to see Bodie standing in front of her, his expression somber. Joey was instantly wide awake, adrenalin pulsing through her body as she sat up straight, only peripherally aware that Pacey was still next to her, that her head had been resting on his shoulder, and his cheek on top of her head. They had both been asleep, and he was rubbing his jaw and mumbling something about biting his tongue, but she only had eyes for Bodie. 

“Is everything okay?”

Her brother-in-law didn’t immediately smile and reassure her, and the sinking feeling inside Joey went deeper, spreading tendrils of dread and fear throughout her entire body. Someone took her hand and held it as Bodie started to talk. 

“Her blood pressure keeps dropping, and they’re getting concerned. They want to do a C-section, but Bessie’s being stubborn. Insists she wants a natural birth.” He ran his hand through his curly hair, his distress radiating off him in waves. “I can’t change her mind. Can you come and try talking to her?”

“Of course.” Joey jumped to her feet, her hand still clasped in Pacey’s. “Take me to her.”

She followed Bodie down the hall, hanging onto Pacey’s hand like a lifeline. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and when she glanced at his face, he shot her a reassuring smile. Bodie pushed through a door onto the ward, where several beds were filled with pregnant women in varying stages of labour, and led them down to a bed near the window. 

Bessie was propped up on the hospital bed, her face pale and her hair hanging limply around her shoulders. Joey’s spine stiffened at the sight of her, and a flood of memories came back, hitting her like a tidal wave. Her mother’s first time having chemo, sitting in the hospital bed smiling at her daughters, telling them she’d be just fine. After the surgery, when both of her breasts had been removed, but it still hadn’t been enough. She’d wasted away until she was a skeletal version of her former self. The cancer had sucked out her life, her vibrancy, her energy, but never her love. She had loved her daughters fiercely, without restraint. Bessie was going to love her child the same way, Joey was certain of it. 

“Hey, Bess.”

“Really? This is your plan?” she demanded of Bodie. “You’re going to try and get my little sister to guilt trip me into this?”

He shrugged. “Nothing else was working.”

“It’s not your decision!” Bessie snapped at him. “It’s my decision, and I want to have my baby naturally. I want to be awake when it happens, want my smile to be the first thing my child sees, I want--” She broke off mid-tirade when she noticed Pacey. “Hello.” Her eyes strayed to his hand, clasping Joey’s tightly, then back to his face. “What are you doing here? You didn’t sleep over last night, did you?”

“No. He brought me breakfast. And that’s not relevant,” Joey interjected. “Bessie, I know you want all those things but you don’t want to risk your baby’s health, or your own. This is serious!” 

“It’s not that serious. Modern medicine can do wonderful things.”

“Bessie!” Joey’s fury was rising. She wanted to reach out and throttle her sister, to shake some sense into her. “You can’t play games with this! You can’t just pretend it’s all going to be fine when it’s not!” Her voice broke on the last word, and a sob escaped her. “I can’t lose you, Bessie. I can’t do this alone.”

“I’m not going to die, Joey.” 

Bessie’s voice was eerily calm, as though she was watching the scene from outside of her own body. It was unnerving, Pacey decided. He snuck a glance at Bodie, who was chewing on his own knuckles, at a loss for what to do or how to help. 

Joey gave in to her anger. “You know who else said that?” she demanded, stepping forward until there was barely a foot between her and her sister. “Mom did! She sat in her hospital bed and she said that.” Joey saw the way her sister flinched at the memory, but she wouldn’t relent. “She said, over and over, not to worry, that it would all be fine, and guess what? It wasn’t. It was not fine, Bessie. She died! She got sick and she wasted away and she died. Do you think she would’ve left us if she had had a choice? If even the remotest chance had existed that might have saved her life?”

Bessie was crying now, too. 

“I know you’re scared. I am too. We all are.” Joey reached out and put a hand on Bessie’s shoulder, then leaned in and hugged her. “But you have to be brave,” she said into her ear. “You have to do this, Bess. Please.”

Bessie nodded slowly, and Bodie exhaled a sigh of relief, and rushed off to find a nurse. Joey straightened up, and wiped Bessie’s tears off her cheeks with her thumb. 

“Let’s hope this child doesn’t inherit the Potter stubborn streak,” she said. “Or you’ll never know a moment’s peace.”

Bessie scoffed as Bodie and the doctor came over to her bed. “I can handle it,” she sniffled. “Raised you, didn’t I?”

Pacey sat down on the chair and ran his hands through his hair, elbows on his knees as he stared at the linoleum. He’d left Joey with her sister, carrying on the pep talk until Bessie slipped under the anaesthesia. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was even still there, except that Joey seemed to appreciate his presence. He knew that he could have just waited for her to drop into the Ice House to pick up her pocketbook, that he hadn’t needed to turn up bearing food (again), but he was also powerless against the impulse, deep in his gut, to take care of her. Even if it meant coming to a hospital. 

Pacey hated hospitals. Always had, probably always would. The sterile smell, the squeaking linoleum, the memory of his mother’s impatience as she sat next to him in the ER, muttering under her breath about how accident prone he was, and how Doug and the girls had never caused her this much trouble... 

“You okay?”

He looked up as Joey put her hand on his shoulder. “Yeah.” Pacey sat up quickly. “I’m fine.” His eyes searched her face. “You?”

“Scared.” 

She sat down next to him and sighed. Pacey fought the urge to put his arm around her, unsure if that would be okay. She was the one who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, but he didn't think she’d even been aware that she’d done it. 

Joey’s foot jittered anxiously against the floor. Pacey wanted so badly to absorb all of her anxiety and distress, to draw it into himself so she wouldn’t have to feel it. He wanted desperately to do something that would help.

“Do you want me to tell you that everything will be okay?” he offered.

Joey shot him a look. “No,” she replied. “I don’t want you to lie to me. Not ever.” 

Pacey nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. Everything that was supposed to be comforting seemed like empty platitudes. _I’m sure she’ll be okay. This is a great hospital. They’ll be giving her the best possible care._

In the end, he changed the subject. 

“I found your drawing.” 

Joey blinked at him, then the corner of her mouth twitched into a half-smile. “What’d you think?”

Pacey fixed his eyes on her face, still floored by how incredibly beautiful she was. “Looked like a dream come true.”

She sighed, then reached across into his lap and took hold of his hand. Her fingertips grazed the inside of his wrist. “I dreamed about you last night.”

Pacey swallowed hard, struggling to control his emotions. “Oh, yeah? Did there happen to be a desert island involved?”

“No. We were trapped inside an enormous department store. I was wearing pyjamas, and you kept trying to shoot hockey pucks at my head.”

Pacey snorted with laughter. “What?”

“I know. It was ridiculous.” She smiled, and leaned her head against his shoulder. He wished she’d stay there forever. 

“Tell me more about these pyjamas,” he murmured, his voice a soft growl. 

Joey giggled. “They were purple flannel. With little stars on them.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” he replied. “I can never remember my dreams, especially not in that kind of detail.”

“It’s one thing I’ve always been able to do,” Joey shrugged. “I don’t know why. But I remember the pyjamas because I recognized them. They were the same ones I had when I was a little kid. Except bigger, obviously, in the dream.”

“Obviously.” He smiled, picturing little Joey Potter in her purple pjs. “Were they your favourite?”

“Yeah. I got them for my birthday, and I was obsessed. I wore them everywhere, including to school.”

“You wore your pyjamas to school?”

“They were great pyjamas!” she said defensively.

“I can’t believe your parents let you do that.”

“You really think they could stop me? The Potter stubborn streak runs deep.”

He grinned. “ _That_ I do know.”

“Exactly. Anyway. I eventually outgrew them, but I still refused to let my mom throw them out, so she cut them up and--”

“She _what_?!”

“--and made them into pyjamas for my favourite teddy bear.” 

“Oh.” He let out a breath, then smiled at the thought of little Joey, clutching a bear wearing a replica of her favourite PJs. “That was nice of her.”

“She was very nice,” Joey said softly. “And a whiz on the sewing machine. Which is not a talent I’ve inherited, but Bessie’s a pro. I swear, her kid’s not going to know what store-bought clothes even are.”

They sat in silence for a moment. He knew she was thinking about her mother, and her sister. When her fingers tightened around his arm, her worry thrumming through her body and into his, he spoke. 

“But you inherited your mom’s artistic talent.”

Joey huffed. “Maybe. Not really. She was a much better artist than I am.”

“Well, she had more practice.” 

She smiled, leaning her head closer against him. Her hair was soft and silky against his cheek. “What about you? Did you inherit anything from your parents?”

“God, I hope not.”

“There must be something,” she insisted. “What was your father good at?”

Pacey frowned. He could write a long list of things that his father was terrible at, starting and ending with being a parent, but when asked to consider his talents? That was a much shorter list. “Uh...darts. He was great at darts.”

He felt her body relax slightly. “And so are you.” She shifted her weight a little. “Did he teach you to play?”

“No.” She tilted her head to look up at him, and he forced himself to keep talking. “It was his one talent. He could’ve played professionally - or so he always said. It was probably bullshit. But he _was_ good, and I was determined to impress him, so my buddy Will and I used to spend hours in his garage, practicing on his old man’s dart board while our dads played poker in the house.” He drew in a slow breath. “Will was okay at it, but I got really good.”

“I've seen that for myself.”

Pacey nodded. “Right. Well, one night Pop came in while we were playing. I guess they’d finished with poker. He’d just lost every hand he’d played, so he was in a really foul mood, and he’d challenged his friends to a game of darts. Nobody wanted to play against him, except me. I was the only one who accepted his challenge.”

“Did you beat him?” 

“Yeah, I did.” He tried not to think about the reaction that win had earned him. “That pissed him right off. He demanded a rematch. He’d had a few drinks that night, but I kept up with him right to the last throw.”

“And then?”

“Then I let him win.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the only thing he was good at.” Pacey shrugged his free shoulder. “I didn’t want to take that away from him.” 

Joey sat up and looked at him, her forehead creased into a frown. “He should have been proud of you.”

Pacey shook his head, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Joey reached up and touched the scar on his cheek. 

“How’d you get this?”

“That was a different night, when he was _really_ wasted and decided to prove his superiority with a re-enactment of William Tell. Only with darts and beer cans instead of arrows and apples.” 

Joey’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “He threw a dart at your _head_ ? Are you _kidding_ me?”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “It was a long time ago.”

“It is _not_ okay! How old were you?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, looking down at her hand in his. “Eight or nine.”

“Jesus Christ.” He’d never seen her look so angry. Somehow, it made her even more beautiful. “That man is lucky he’s not still here, or I’d give him a piece of my mind.” 

“Just to see that, I wish that he was.” 

Joey’s expression softened, and her hand reached up to cup his cheek. Her thumb stroked along the indentation of the scar as her eyes locked onto his. 

“I’m so sorry, Pace.”

He stared into her eyes as the world around them stopped spinning, and everything in the universe held still as her face crept closer and closer to his own. Her lips were inches from his, her eyes were staring into the depths of his soul, not with pity for him but with a fierce sympathy for what he’d been through. She might not have known what it was like firsthand, to grow up with a father like his, but she could feel his pain. He knew that in his bones. 

Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Joey blinked and dropped her hand, turning to look at the strawberry-blond nurse. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said with a smile. “But there’s someone you might like to meet.”

Joey blinked against the bright sunshine as they walked out into the parking lot. Somehow, most of the day had passed, and now Pacey had to go to work. 

“I’m over there.” He stopped and pointed at his battered old Jeep. 

Joey eyed the vehicle dubiously. Its rundown state was more obvious than ever in a sea of newer, shinier vehicles. “Think you’ll make it home without breaking down?”

“Don’t cast aspersions on my Jeep,” he retorted. 

“Uh, huh. Let me guess, you saved up all your money and bought it when you were sixteen, and you’re too emotionally attached to trade it in for a newer model.”

“She, not it,” he corrected her playfully. “And not exactly. Mitch bought her for Dawson, after he got his licence. He’d planned that they’d fix her up over the summer vacation, but he wasn’t interested. His mom had just bought him a brand new Range Rover, and he couldn't be bothered with some old jalopy. So I ended up helping Mitch instead, and when we were done, he gave her to me.” He slapped the hood fondly as they reached the Jeep. “You should never doubt her. She’ll always pull through in the end.”

“That was nice of Mitch.”

“He’s a good guy. I know he didn't make the best impression on you the other night, but even after Dawson left, I was always welcome in his house. He taught me a lot of things. Not just how to fix a car, but how to cook a meal, build a fence, light a fire without matches...”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah. It’s easy.” He leaned in closer, whispering into her ear. Joey shivered at the feel of his breath on her skin. “You use a lighter.”

She laughed, slapping his shoulder with the back of her hand as he moved away from her and opened his car door.

“I’m glad you had someone looking out for you,” Joey said. “Although if this car means so much to you, maybe you should lock it.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why? Who’s going to steal her?” 

“Okay, good point.” 

“You sure you don’t want a ride home?”

“No, thanks. I’m good. And I’ve got Bessie’s car, so--”

“Right. Well, congratulations again, Aunt Josephine.”

She pulled a face. “Don’t call me that. It makes me sound like a spinster aunt.”

“Like in the book,” he said. “ _Anne of Green Gables_.”

Joey’s face lit up with surprise. “How do you know that?”

“I have three sisters,” he reminded her. “And Gretchen loved that book. She used to talk about it all the time.”

“Huh. Maybe I would like your sister, after all.”

“I really think you would.”

“Maybe I’ll meet her someday.”

He grinned. “Maybe you will.”

They stood there for a moment, stupidly grinning at each other. She broke eye contact first. “You should probably get going. Don’t want to be late for your shift.”

Pacey shrugged. “Ehh. What’re they going to do, fire me?”

“Yes. That is a genuine concern.”

He shook his head. “Nah. You know as well as I do that I’m irreplaceable.”

“Incorrigible is what you are.” 

He grinned. “When I get home, I’m gonna look that word up, and then I’m going to call you with the perfect comeback.”

Joey laughed. “You do that. I’m sure you’ve got a thesaurus right there on your boat, ready to help.”

“Don’t presume to know what I do and don’t have on my boat,” he teased her. “Seriously though, congratulations. He’s a beautiful baby.”

She beamed back at him with an enormous smile. “He is, isn’t he?” Joey had never been a particularly maternal person, was never someone who had asked to hold a baby or gravitated towards small children, but when she’d held her nephew Alexander in her arms for the first time, she’d felt something stir inside her that she’d never expected to feel. She’d looked up and met Pacey’s eyes, and that feeling had only intensified. And now here he was, still standing there next to his crappy old car, staring at her with those truly remarkable blue eyes, and the feeling wasn’t going away.

“I know I say this a lot, but thank you. For the company, for the food, and for being there for me, when I needed you the most.”

A slow smile slid over his face. “Any time, Potter.”

She couldn’t help it. She stepped in closer and put her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. Pacey reciprocated immediately, drawing her in against him. His hand slid through her hair, softly stroking her dark tresses. He was so warm, so strong, and he smelled so good. _Pheromones_ , her brain told her through the fog, but she barely heard it. Screw the science. This felt right. So right…

Joey started to step back, and he held her for a second before loosening his grip, as reluctant to let her go as she was to relinquish him. She tilted her head up and met his gaze, and her hands, almost of their own accord, moved from his neck to his cheeks, cupping his face, his stubble rough against her palms. She saw his eyes widen slightly, felt his breath hitch, and then she leaned in and kissed him. 

It was a soft, gentle kiss but it set his body alight in a way that no other woman ever had. None of the kisses he’d ever had before in his life held a candle to this one. At the lightest touch of her mouth against his, his heart immediately started hammering against his ribs. Almost unconsciously, his lips parted, and he felt the hot lick of her tongue against his lower lip before she pulled back. 

“I’m sorry.”

He put his hands over top of hers, still on the sides of his face. “Don’t be.”

Joey closed her eyes and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

He raised his eyebrows and waited, but her eyes remained closed. “I disagree,” he finally said. 

Her eyes flew open. “You think I should’ve cheated on my boyfriend?”

“Firstly, it’s barely cheating, because that was barely a kiss.” He grinned at her offended expression. He drew her hands down to her sides, his fingers intertwined with hers. “Secondly, you have to admit that you’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“Wanting to kiss you? Hardly.”

“We're not allowed to lie to each other, Joey. Remember?”

She scowled. “I loathe you.”

"There you go again."

He grinned at her, knowing she didn’t mean it. He let go of her hands and got into his car, his lips still tingling with the memory of that kiss. It had been so brief, but so good. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow, to explore her body with his hands, her mouth with his own, to find out how she tasted, to learn her deepest secrets. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

“So now that I’ve had _my_ dream come true, it must be your turn.” He rested his hands on the steering wheel and gave her his most charming smile. “I swear there’s a K-Mart just down the road from here. What d’you say we come back tonight, try and get ourselves locked in?” 

She pushed the door shut behind him. “No.”

“I’ll buy you some flannel pyjamas,” he offered. “I can’t promise they’ll be purple, but…”

Joey shook her head. “Go to work, Pacey.” 

“What if I promise not to shoot hockey pucks at your head?”

She took a step back, despite every urge in her body trying to drive her closer to him. “Go to _work_ , Pacey.” 

He sighed, then turned the key to start the engine. To his relief, the Jeep started. “See, look at that? First try,” he declared happily. 

“It’s a miracle," she responded drily, and he laughed.

Joey watched as he put the Jeep into gear and slowly backed out of the parking space. He raised his fingers from the wheel to wave, and she waved back, standing alone in the shimmering heat as he drove away.


	8. Off the Hook

**_And I could wait patiently_ ** **_  
_** **_But I really wish you would  
_**

* * *

The hospital kept Bessie in for a couple of days, and by the time she returned home, Joey had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, keeping herself busy with chores to distract herself from the constant pull she felt toward the marina and the Ice House. She was furious at herself for giving into the impulse to kiss Pacey, and at the same time, wished she could do it again. She’d never made the first move before, had never been the one to initiate the first kiss. When she was with someone new, she’d always held back, waiting for her significant other to take the lead, but there was something about Pacey that made her brave, that made her fearless. She liked that feeling, and it also terrified her. Who knew what else she was capable of? What other parts of her had she been holding back? 

To an outside observer, the way she was behaving was completely out of character. But deep down, it didn’t feel that way. It didn’t feel wrong. It felt like she’d finally stepped into her truest self, as if she was finally acknowledging parts of herself that she’d spent years suppressing. 

It felt like coming home. 

Once Bessie, Bodie and baby Alexander were settled back into the house, the reality of life with a newborn baby hit them all, and none more so than Bessie. She was still exhausted from the birth and the general anaesthetic, and being a first time mother in her thirties meant it took a little longer for her body to adjust. Alexander was a fussy baby, and she struggled to get him to latch onto the breast, which she found deeply frustrating. Being unable to do anything naturally was anathema to Bessie, and her emotions and hormones were all over the place. Bodie was wonderful at calming both her and the baby down, his soothing presence a balm to everyone’s nerves, but when he was at work, as he often was, the house felt like a powder keg of emotion about to explode.

Joey did her best, but she’d never been much good at absorbing other people’s negative emotions. Her tendency to run away from her problems was stymied by her sense of obligation to her sister, but she found ways to escape the house when she could. With Bodie working evenings and nights at the restaurant, he was always home in the mornings, so when Alexander’s squalling cries at daybreak drove Joey out of bed, she decided to make the most of her inability to sleep in by going for a regular morning run. She made a point of _not_ running toward the marina, but instead heading inland, or in the opposite direction along the coast. 

One morning, about a week after Alexander’s birth, Joey found herself running along a dirt road that led out toward the beach. It was a beautiful spot, and she slowed down to take it all in. The sun was peeking over the horizon, and birds were singing loudly in the treetops as she jogged slowly toward the expanse of ocean, glittering blue-grey in the early light. Joey had lived in and around Boston for most of her life, but she couldn’t help wondering what her life might have been like if she’d grown up here, instead. Somewhere quieter, closer to nature, where she wouldn’t have blended into the background of every classroom. Where people might have actually seen her, or paid attention. Then again, she’d probably have spent the entire time wishing she lived somewhere bigger and more metropolitan, where she could hide in the crowd. There would’ve been no pleasing the contrarian teenage Joey Potter. 

She slowed to a walk, giving herself a breather as she pulled her sweaty tank top away from her stomach. The glistening water was tempting, but she resisted the urge to submerge herself. She had a long run back to Bessie’s, and it wouldn’t be much fun with wet clothes chafing her the whole way. 

That’s what she told herself, anyway.

A nearby driveway led down to a two-storey beach house, and she paused at the swinging _FOR SALE_ sign hanging outside. It had large windows, and looked right out over the water. A perfect place to paint, she thought idly. With the woods on one side and the ocean on the other, where you could wake up to the sunrise every morning. Her mom would’ve loved it. 

Joey’s feet took her toward the house, which appeared to be unoccupied. The paintwork was peeling, the garden overgrown and the guttering filled with dead leaves, but the location was to die for. She walked around the front of the house to admire the view. Sliding doors opened onto a large verandah, which looked right out onto the water. With a surreptitious glance around, she stepped up onto the verandah and peeked through the doors. She could make out an outdated but spacious kitchen, a large living room with a stone fireplace, exposed wooden floorboards and a staircase leading to the second floor. Sure, the wallpaper was peeling and the few pieces of furniture in the house were shabby, but there were also built-in bookshelves and a corner window that was just crying out for a window seat. She could picture herself sitting there through the seasons, curled up with a good book - watching the leaves turn to gold in the fall; a cat on her lap in the winter as the fire blazed in the hearth; a bouncing Labrador in the spring, begging her to go outside and play; sitting in the summer sunshine with her bare feet up, sipping on iced tea before heading out on the boat…

Joey shook her head and turned around. That wasn’t her life. 

_But it could be_. The voice in the back of her mind niggled at her, telling her things she didn’t want to hear. It didn’t make any sense. Her and Pacey - they didn’t make any sense. Their lives were complete opposites, they wanted different things, they were on different paths. Probably always had been, certainly always would be.

She had to go home and get on with her life. She had to let him go.

In the end, it was Bessie who coerced her into seeing Pacey again. 

“Jo, is that you?”

“It’s me.” Joey pushed her sweaty hair back off her face and went into the living room, where Bessie was sitting on the couch, nursing Alexander. “Hey, he’s feeding!”

“Finally.” She smiled up at her younger sister. “I need you to do me a favour.”

“Anything.”

Bessie nodded. “I was hoping you’d say that. I have an intense craving for some buffalo chicken wings, and I know you know where to get the best ones in town.”

Joey perched on the arm of the easy chair. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

“Bessie, you’re vegetarian.”

“Shut up. Don’t tell Bodie. And you're going to have to sneak them into the house while he’s still out digging the new vegetable garden, so time is of the essence here.”

“You know he’s going to smell them when he comes inside.”

“That’s okay. I’ll blame you.”

Joey frowned at her sister. “I thought the weird cravings were supposed to happen _while_ you’re pregnant, not afterwards.”

“So did I,” Bessie said. “But I know what I want, and I want chicken.” She shook her head in annoyance. “Blame the baby. He’s a carnivore. Please, Joey?” 

Joey tipped her head back and glared at the ceiling. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“I can’t believe you’re making this much of a fuss,” her sister countered. “Actually, I can, but I don't understand why you’re suddenly avoiding Pacey. A week or so ago, I couldn’t peel you off the guy.” Joey shot her a dark look, but Bessie wasn’t cowed. “Seriously, Jo. What happened between you two? One minute you’re going out on dates, and I know I didn't imagine him being at the hospital when Alex was born, and now...nothing.”

Joey slumped down into the easy chair. “I kissed him,” she admitted. “That’s what happened.”

“OH MY--” Bessie began, startling Alexander, who opened his mouth in protest. Bessie quickly got him latched back onto her breast, then returned her attention to Joey. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her mouth opening exaggeratedly wide as she formed each word. “When? Where? How was it?”

Joey rolled her eyes. “A couple hours after Alex was born. I think my hormones were all out of whack from holding the baby, and I walked Pacey to his car, and I was just so grateful to have had him there through all of that, and I don’t know. I couldn’t help it.” She glared at her sister. “Why are you smiling? This is a disaster, Bessie.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a boyfriend?” Joey said, her voice rising. Bessie quickly shushed her, and she lowered her tone. “Because I cheated. I’m a cheater. I never thought I’d do that.” 

“Neither did I.”

Joey dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “I don’t get it,” she muttered. “What’s going on? Why am I behaving like this?”

“Because you like the guy.”

Joey lifted her head and looked at her sister. “You’re supposed to be my moral compass,” she grumbled. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Because _I_ like the guy.”

“Really? Or do you just like him better than David?”

“I like syphilis better than David,” Bessie muttered. “But that’s not really the point. It’s not even about Pacey, and it’s certainly not about me. It’s about _you_.” 

Joey frowned. “You’ve lost me in your sea of pronouns.”

“When you’re with him, you seem happy, Joey. Happy in a way that I haven’t really seen since Mom died. You’re more relaxed, you smile more...even when you’re just talking about him, your eyes light up. Admit it, sis. He’s good for you.”

Joey dropped her face into her hands again. She’d expected Bessie to be annoyed with her, to tell her to stop messing around and commit to the relationship she was in. Instead, she was encouraging this. And bringing their mom into it was a low blow. 

“But...me and Pacey...I mean, it’s ridiculous. We’re living completely opposite lives. If you really stop and think about it, this whole thing makes no sense.” 

“Maybe it’s not supposed to. Or maybe, and I know I’m heading into left field here, but maybe that life you’ve always planned out for yourself isn’t the one you’re supposed to be living.”

Joey glared at her. “You’re really a lot of help.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stood up. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“You should. I can smell you from here.” Bessie called after Joey as her sister left the room. “And then you’re going to pick up my wings, right?”

An hour later, Joey walked into the Ice House to find the place in a state of chaos. Amber was standing behind the counter, white as a ghost and frantically flipping through the phone book while another server, a middle-aged woman with grey streaks in her red hair, marched around the restaurant taking people’s orders. 

“I can’t find it!” Amber cried, then looked up and saw Joey. Her young face relaxed almost immediately. “Joey! Thank god you’re here.”

Doing her best to suppress her surprise at the warm welcome, Joey approached the counter. “Is everything okay?”

“No. Nothing’s okay. I think we need an ambulance, but Theresa won’t let me call one--”

“We don’t need an ambulance,” the other server said. “It’s not that bad, Amber. Calm down.” She turned to Joey. “What can I get you?”

“What’s going on?” Joey demanded, looking around the half-empty restaurant. “Where’s Pacey?”

Theresa’s eyes narrowed. “What’s it to you?”

“She’s his girlfriend,” Amber said, oblivious to Joey’s surprise. “ _She_ can take him to the hospital.”

“Why does Pacey need to go to the hospital?” Joey demanded as Theresa started repeating her claim that Amber was overreacting.

“He cut himself. There’s _so much blood_ ,” Amber cried. 

Joey dumped her purse on the counter and went straight out to the kitchen, ignoring Theresa’s protests that the area was Staff Only. Pacey was sitting on a stool, a blood-stained towel pressed to the heel of his hand. He started talking without looking up as she entered. 

“I’m fine, honestly, I don’t--oh. Hey, Joey.”

“You don’t look fine.” She marched over to him and made him lift the towel from his hand. Blood immediately started flowing from the deep cut. “Okay, put pressure back on that. You’re going to need stitches.”

“It’s fine. It’ll clot soon.”

“Pacey. Stop being ridiculous.” She turned to see the two waitresses standing in the doorway, staring at them. “Who else can cook?”

“Not me,” Theresa said. “I haven’t been trained for that.”

Amber bit her lip. “I could try…”

“You must have another cook that works here.”

“Dennis does, but he’s gone to Provincetown to see his grandmother,” Amber said. “He won’t be back until tonight.” 

“See? I can’t leave,” Pacey said. “Just give me five more minutes, and I’ll be--”

“Shut up,” Joey told him firmly. “Amber, give Bodie a call. His number’s in the book. He’ll come and cover for a couple hours while I take this hero to the hospital to get his hand stitched.” 

“I’m not going to the hospital.” He fixed her with a stubborn look. “I hate hospitals.”

“Come on, Pacey. You literally sat in one for several hours last weekend.”

“That was different,” he said quietly. “I was there for you.”

Joey was very aware of his staff’s eyes on her, but she did her best to ignore them. “Well, now I’m here for _you_. And I’m taking you to see a doctor.”

“There’s a medical centre over on Jenks Street,” Amber said helpfully.

“Perfect. Thank you, Amber.” Joey crossed her arms and looked at Pacey. “Now, are you going to stop arguing and let me help you?”

Pacey closed his eyes for a moment. He knew she was right. The room was still spinning, and he felt like he was going to throw up. 

“Okay, okay.”

“Good. Now come on.” Joey put an arm around his shoulders, and he slowly got to his feet. “You can have him back tomorrow,” she told the wait staff. “In the meantime, Bodie will hold the fort until Dennis gets here. Apologise to the customers for any delay, and offer them free drinks while they wait.”

“We can’t just--”

“Do as she says, Theresa.” Pacey frowned as the older woman stepped in front of him and Joey, blocking their path. “What now?”

“You need to move,” Joey told her firmly, her expression darkening. “Or I’ll--”

“You don’t need to threaten me,” Theresa grumbled. “But you shouldn’t go out through the restaurant. He’s bleeding all over the place, and you’ll scare the customers.” She motioned behind them. “Use the back door.”

“Right. Good point.” Joey turned Pacey around. “Amber, go call Bodie.”

“He’s got a newborn--” Pacey protested. 

“Shut up. Just call him. He won’t mind.” Bessie would be pissed, but Joey would deal with her later. 

They were out the door and halfway to Pacey’s Jeep when she realised that she’d left her purse in the restaurant, with Bessie’s car keys inside. Not to mention that the Beetle was parked two blocks away, and she wasn’t sure Pacey would make it that far without passing out. 

"Do you have your keys on you?"

"In my pocket." He realised where they were headed, and baulked. "You want ot drive my car?"

 _"Want_ is a strong word. _Have to_ is more like it."

"Do you know how to drive stick?”

She raised her eyebrows. “If that’s a euphemism for something…”

“No, it’s a literal question.” He chuckled, despite the pain that was now running up his arm. “Do you know how to drive a stick shift?”

“No,” she admitted. “So I guess you'll have to teach me.”

The drive to the medical centre wasn’t without its bumps and lurches, but by the time they arrived, Joey felt like she had a handle on driving stick. She pulled into a parking space, remembering to hold the clutch down as she eased onto the brake, then switched off the engine with a sigh of relief. 

“I did it!” 

“Yes, you did.” Pacey leaned his head back against the headrest as she pulled up the handbrake. “Congratulations, Potter.”

Joey reached across the seat and put her hand on his shoulder. “You okay over there?”

“Not really, no.”

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Come on, Pace. Let’s get you fixed up.”

“You women are always trying to fix me.” He tried to unbuckle his seatbelt without taking pressure off his bleeding wound, but it wasn't easy. Joey nudged his arm out of the way and did it for him. “Ever occur to you that I don’t need fixing? That I’m perfect just the way I am?” He wasn’t sure what why he was talking. He was probably delirious. 

“Okay, Mr Perfect.” She got out of her side of the car and slammed the door shut behind her, then jogged around to his side and pulled the door open for him. 

“Who’s the guy in this relationship?” he muttered as he stepped out onto the warm tarmac. His hand was throbbing with pain now. 

“You are. And as the guy, you have a choice. You can either bitch and moan about the fact that you aren’t as good at boning chicken as you thought you were, or you can get your butt inside that medical centre and let them stitch up your hand.”

“Okay. You win.”

“Good boy.” She put her arm around his waist and guided him towards the entrance. 

Half an hour later, Joey was once again sitting alone in a waiting room while a receptionist scowled at her from behind a desk. She had just picked up a new magazine and was leafing through it, trying to decide whether or not she cared that Tom Cruise had a new girlfriend, when the receptionist sat down next to her. 

Joey looked up in surprise. “Is everything okay?”

The woman pursed her lips tightly. “You don't remember me, do you?”

“Uh, should I?” she asked. “I don’t really know anyone here. I’m just in Capeside to stay with my sister.”

“Yes, I heard. I know who you are. Congratulations on the baby, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Joey looked back at her magazine, willing the woman to get out of her personal space. It didn’t work. 

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you should stay away from him.”

Joey glanced up as the woman nodded in the direction of the clinic doors, where Pacey had left her. Her eyes narrowed. “From Pacey? Why would--wait, I do remember you. From the movies.”

“That’s right. I tried to warn you then, but you ran off before I could.”

That wasn’t exactly how Joey remembered it going, but she didn’t argue semantics. She tossed the magazine down and folded her arms, leaning back and glaring at the woman. 

“Spit it out, then. What exactly is it that you wanted to warn me about?”

The receptionist sucked her cheeks in, clearly unappreciative of Joey’s irritated response. But she was a woman with a passion for gossip, and she wasn’t going to let Joey’s hostility get in the way of spreading whatever information she had to share. 

“That boy - I won’t call him a man, he doesn’t deserve it - is trouble with a capital T. He’ll ruin your reputation, given half the chance, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Joey raised her eyebrows. “How do you know I don’t already have a ruined reputation?”

The woman clearly hadn’t been expecting that response, but it didn’t stop her for long. “Well...even if you do, I’m sure you know that it can only get worse, and spending time with _him_ ,” she said, twisting her mouth in distaste, “is guaranteed to take you down that path.”

Joey had heard enough. “Okay, lady. I don’t know what Pacey’s done to piss you off, but I actually don’t want to hear about it.”

“Oh, but you have to.” She leaned forward in her seat, decreasing the space between them, and spoke quickly before Joey could interrupt again. “He didn’t do it to me, but to a friend of mine. She was his high school English teacher, and he utterly and completely set about destroying her career.”

Joey had to admit, she was curious. But she wasn’t going to admit it. She picked up the magazine again and flipped to the next page, feigning nonchalance. 

“Maybe she deserved it.”

“She absolutely did not!” The receptionist laid her hand over the page that Joey was pretending to read, and Joey lifted her head and gave her the deepest scowl she could summon. The woman moved her hand, but she kept going, determined to get her story out. “He’s the one who lied! He lied to everyone - his friends, the school board, everyone. He claimed,” and she lowered her voice and leaned even closer, until Joey’s nostrils were filled with the scent of her musky perfume, “that his teacher seduced him and coerced him into having sexual relations with him.” She threw up her hands in disgust. “And he was only fifteen years old at the time! As if she’d have touched him with a ten foot pole.”

A sinking feeling entered Joey’s stomach. “What did you say?”

“I know! Shocking, isn’t it? He pursued her from the moment she moved here. Constantly harassing her in the classroom, trying to flirt with her, _literally_ crashing her dates when she tried to go out with other men. And she was a grown woman, old enough to be his mother! It was sick, I tell you. I told her to report him to the police, but she refused, saying it was a childish infatuation and he’d get over it.” The woman tutted disapprovingly. “Of course, she knows now that she should’ve taken my advice. She told me afterwards that she should’ve listened to me, but she didn’t, and the whole thing went as far as a judicial hearing of the educational board before he finally confessed that he’d made the entire thing up. Despite that, she was still run out of town with that scandal as a blemish on her teaching record. She quit teaching entirely shortly afterwards.” She sighed sadly, then her face hardened. “Of course he got off scot free, because his father was the Chief of Police. One rule for them, another rule for the rest of us. That’s how it goes.” She stood up, straightening her skirt. “I just thought you deserved to know. You seem like a smart young woman. I’d hate to see you throw your life away on the likes of him.”

Joey’s hackles rose, and she could no longer keep her anger off her face. “Luckily for you, it’s none of your business _what_ I do with my life.” 

The woman’s smug mouth fell open in surprise. “I’m only trying to help you!” she hissed.

“And I didn’t ask for your so-called help,” Joey snapped back, standing up as the internal door opened and Pacey came out, his right hand bandaged and in a triangle sling. “So you can mind your own damn business.”

They parted company, the woman marching back to her desk while Joey went to Pacey’s side. He grinned at her, and she smiled back, wishing she could forget what she’d just heard. 

“All better?”

“I will be. Thanks to you.” He looked a little bashful as he reached around behind himself for his wallet, which was in his right rear pocket, making it difficult to access with his left hand. “Turns out it was cut pretty deep.”

“I hate to say I told you so, but…” She frowned as he struggled. “Here, let me help you with that.” She leaned over and slid her hand into his back pocket, then slowly drew the wallet out before handing it to him. “Here.”

“Uh, thanks.” His heart was pounding, and he could barely take his eyes off her as he fumbled to remove his debit card. Joey leaned on the receptionist’s high desk and shot him a lascivious look that made him have to look away before he popped a stiffy right then and there in the medical centre. 

“Any time, sweetheart.” She slid her arm around his waist and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. The receptionist scowled up at them, and Joey shot her an innocent smile. 

A few minutes later, they exited the building and stepped back out into the heat of the day. 

“Okay, Jo? Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I am definitely not complaining, but what was that?”

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it. That woman and her thinly veiled bitchery were driving me up the wall.” She shook her head as she unlocked the Jeep and opened the driver’s side door. “If you hadn’t come back out when you did, she might have ended up needing stitches herself.”

Pacey chuckled as he buckled his seatbelt. “Mrs Easton? I know she hates me, but what’d she ever do to you?”

“You just said it. She hates _you_. That's enough for me.” Joey slid the key into the ignition and started the engine without putting her foot on the clutch, and the Jeep lurched forward into the hedge. “Shit!” She slammed her other foot onto the brake, and the vehicle stopped. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. But you might want to calm down before you drive us home. Not that the Jeep’s not up to a bit of off-roading, but I’d like to continue having the use of at least one of my hands.”

“Sorry,” she said again, stomping firmly on the clutch this time before starting the Jeep. “She got me all wound up, that’s all.” She drew in a deep breath, and shifted the Jeep into reverse. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. Ease off the clutch,” he reminded her as she started slowly backing out of the parking space.

The concentration that it took to drive stick was a sufficient distraction, and she drove him back to his boat in near-silence, other than the occasional bit of (mostly warranted) advice from Pacey’s side of the car. 

Back on board the True Love, she made him a sandwich for lunch while he sat on the internal bench seat, watching her. 

“Now this is the life I could get used to.”

“Watch it, Witter.” 

She grinned at him over her shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat. How was it possible for one person to be so beautiful? _And_ be real, and be here, with him? It made no sense, except that it was only temporary. But to hell with that. He was going to enjoy it while it lasted. 

“Thanks again for doing this.” He wasn’t used to having someone take care of him like this. He knew it wouldn’t last long, but what was the saying? Make hay while the sun shines? 

“Hey, you reap what you sow,” she replied, again making him wonder if she could read his mind, or if they both just had a penchant for old-timey platitudes. Joey set the turkey sandwich down in front of him. “I owed you one.”

“Fair enough.”

He picked the sandwich up with his good hand, and took a bite. It had just the right amount of mayo, along with lettuce and tomato and a slice of Swiss cheese. The woman knew how to make a good sandwich. Was there anything she couldn’t do? He looked over at her, sitting next to him with her elbows on the table and her fingers steepled in front of her, forehead creased into a frown. He wanted to lean over and kiss those creases away, to get rid of all her worries and stresses. It was a futile wish, but it didn’t stop him from feeling that way. 

“Uh, oh,” he said as he finished his first mouthful.

She glanced at him. “What?”

“You’re thinking too hard about something.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Says who?”

“It’s pretty obvious.” He took another bite of his sandwich, and spoke around the bread. “What’s wrong, Jo?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she scolded him lightly. “And okay, I have to ask you something. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer, but I need to hear it from you.”

Pacey frowned, his stomach clenching. “Shoot.”

“Did you get your high school English teacher fired?”

To her surprise, he chuckled. “Yeah, but in my defence, he deserved it.”

Joey sat still, confused. “Wait, he?”

“Yeah. Mr Peterson. I spat in his face, which I know I shouldn’t have done, but he was being a homophobic asshole to Jack, and--” He broke off when he saw the look on Joey’s face. “You weren’t asking about Mr Peterson.”

“No.”

 _Shit._ The memory of why Mrs Easton hated him so much floated to the surface of his painkiller-fuzzed mind, and he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. As he composed his thoughts, wondering how on earth he was going to explain this to her, Joey spoke again. 

“Out of interest, how many teachers _did_ you get fired?”

He latched onto the opportunity to change the subject. “Just the two. Well, Mr Milo did resign halfway through my junior year, but while I’m sure I was a major disappointment, I don’t think that can be entirely blamed on me.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“With Mr Milo? I honestly don’t know, exactly. I think he had a timeshare in Florida or something.” He shrugged, taking another bite of his sandwich to shut himself up. 

Joey leaned back against the seat, waiting for him to finish eating. He deliberately chewed more slowly, trying to delay the inevitable.

“Pacey, you know that’s not what I’m asking.”

He sighed, and swallowed his food. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about this.”

“I know. That’s what’s worrying me,” she admitted. “When you were in the doctor’s office today, that busybody receptionist came over and started telling me this wild story about how you accused an innocent woman of seducing you when you were a teenager.” 

She kept her eyes fixed on his, trying to read his reaction to her words. Pacey could feel his heart sinking inside his chest, could feel the coldness creeping over his skin. She knew. She knew about Tamara. As tempting as it was, he couldn’t lie to her, because he’d promised he wouldn’t, and he was never going to break that promise. Not even if it killed him. 

Not even if it made her leave.

“She said it was all lies,” Joey continued, and her voice was still soft and surprisingly gentle. “But it wasn’t, was it?” 

Pacey lifted his head and met her eyes. She believed him. He couldn’t believe that she believed him. The only other person who’d known the truth - aside from Tamara, obviously - was Dawson. And that was only because he’d caught it on tape, and had irrefutable proof.

“No,” he finally admitted, staring at the sandwich he no longer had the stomach to eat. “It wasn’t.”

Pacey waited for her to start shouting at him, to tell him off, to get up and leave. But Joey slid across the bench seat and wrapped her arm around him. She didn’t say anything, just held onto him as he slowly leaned forward until his elbows were resting on the table. Softly, he started to speak. 

He told her the truth. That he’d flirted with Tamara before he’d realised she was his teacher, that he’d pursued her even after he’d found that out. That he’d been thrilled and flattered by her attention, overwhelmed by her attraction to him. That he’d known at the time that it was wrong, from a legal standpoint, but that it had never felt that way to him. He told her that he’d loved Tamara, in his own confused fifteen-year-old way, and that he knew she’d cared about him too. 

Throughout it all, Joey stayed silent. She rested her chin on his shoulder, kept her arm around him, and just listened. When he was finished, he forced himself to turn his head and meet her eyes. To his relief, he saw no disgust there. Just pity.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Pacey.”

“Don’t be sorry for me. Feel sorry for her,” he said. “I ruined her career.”

“ _She_ ruined her career,” Joey retorted, and he felt the jolt of anger that rippled through her. “She shouldn’t have done what she did, and you know it. It was illegal for a reason.”

“Can we change the subject?” he asked. “Please?”

Her hand ran down his back, along the ridge of his spine and right down to the waistband of his pants. And just like that, he wasn’t thinking about Tamara any more. 

“Yeah, okay. I just have one more question, then we can drop it.”

“I know what you’re going to ask,” he said. 

Joey arched an eyebrow. “You do?”

“You want to know why I did it.”

“Actually, no. I don’t need to ask you that. The _why_ of it all seems pretty obvious.”

“Right. Teenage boys and their out-of-control hormones.”

That had been part of it, for sure, but not all of it. He’d truly believed, at the time, that she was in love with him, and that love had filled a need that he’d had for so long, he hadn’t even been aware of it. His mother’s lack of maternal love and his father’s verbal and physical abuse had created a gaping void inside of him that nobody had ever really been able to fill. Tamara had tried, and Andie had come close, but he’d never felt worthy of either of them. It was bizarre, really, that he didn’t feel that way with Joey. She was so clearly completely out of his league in every possible way, yet she was also the closest anyone had ever come to making him feel like a whole person. 

“So what _were_ you going to ask?” he managed to say.

“Whether or not you regret it.”

Pacey chewed his lower lip, thinking seriously about the question. He knew that he should say yes, of course he did, that he knew it had been a mistake from the start and he felt just sick about it. But he also had a lot of fond memories of Tamara. Whatever anyone said, including the law, he couldn’t look back on it without still feeling something for her.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “The whole thing was so messy, but…” He sighed. “Maybe it’s crazy to say this, but I liked the way she made me feel. And I don’t mean that in a sexual way,” he added quickly. “Well, not entirely.”

“How do you mean it?”

“She made me feel like...like a man. Like I was worthwhile, that I mattered - at least to her.”

Joey’s hand slid across his back in a gentle caress. “Nobody else made you feel that way?”

“Not really. I mean, later on there was Andie. I think I have more regrets with her, actually.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because she was so vulnerable, and I was so in love with her, and I feel like maybe we’d moved too fast, like maybe I manipulated her into having sex with me.” He cringed at himself as he told Joey this, but she didn’t budge from his side, her arm still across his back, her cheek against his shoulder as he spilled his deepest, darkest secrets. Somehow, having her there made it possible to speak his truth. “She’d told me her fantasy of her first time, staying at a nice B&B, with roses and chocolates and candlelight, and I went out of my way to make all that come true. I told her that she didn’t have to feel any obligation to have sex with me, just because I’d set it all up like she wanted, and she said she believed me, but...I don’t know. I think maybe that _was_ part of why we did it that night. And I felt really guilty afterwards, like I’d tricked her. I tried to backpedal, to slow our relationship down again after that, but that just made her think I didn’t want her, and made everything worse.”

Joey snuggled closer. “Did you ever trick her like that again?”

“No.”

“Then I think you’re probably okay. You’re still a good person, Pacey.”

He turned his head to look at her, his heart aching with how much he wanted her, needed her, loved her. “How can you be so sure?” 

“You just told me that you did all that for a girl, then told her she was under no obligation to sleep with you,” she said. “Trust me, you’re a good person.” She reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “A good person who is in desperate need of a haircut, might I add.”

Pacey latched onto the change of subject like a lifeline. “I’ve got an electric razor under the sink. I could just shave it all off,” he offered.

“Ugh, please don’t. I’m not really a fan of the buzzcut.”

“No?” he asked, and she scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Okay, then. I’ll go to a proper barber sometime. Unless you want to do it.”

She frowned. “You’d trust me to cut your hair? Right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I’m not exactly going to win any beauty pageants either way. And trust me, I’ve tried.”

Joey raised her eyebrows. “Ooh, do tell.”

“Not today. We’ve uncovered enough of the sordid secrets of Pacey J. Witter for one afternoon.”

She smiled, leaning into him again. “We have, haven’t we?” 

“Yep. I guess that means it’s your turn.”

“Oh, no no no.”

“Oh, yes yes yes.” 

“What would be the point?” she asked him. “I don’t _have_ any secrets.”

“No? None at all?”

“Not from you.”

“See, now why do I find that so very hard to believe?”

“Have a little faith in me, Pacey,” she insisted. “Go on, then. Ask me anything.”

He grinned. “I’m trying, but there is one thing I’ve been _dying_ to know.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

He leaned in closer. “Have you ever done it with a girl?”

“Pacey!” She sat up and slapped his shoulder. “Rude.”

“What? You said, and I quote, _ask me anything, Pacey_.”

“Fine.” She pursed her lips, then shook her head. “I have not. I mean, not in the way you’re meaning.”

“What other ways are there?” he asked, resting his chin on his left hand and surveying her. “Please enlighten me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I kissed a girl once, okay? Is that what you wanted me to say?”

“You could say a little more.”

“But we didn’t _do_ a little more, so there’s nothing else to say.”

“Did you _want_ to do a little more?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“C’mon, Joey. Please?” 

“No. My turn. Have you ever been with a guy?” she countered. “Honest answer.”

“Honestly, no.”

She leaned back in toward him, her eyes playful as she licked her lips. “Ever thought about it?”

He swallowed hard, his eyes glued to her mouth. “Uh, not really.”

“Hmm. Shame.”

“Why is that a shame?”

“I don’t know. It might be kinda hot, that’s all.”

Pacey was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe, and his tightening groin was getting uncomfortable. “Speaking of hot, is it just me or is it really warming up in here right now?”

Joey broke into a wide grin that made his heart leap and did nothing to ease what was going on below his belt. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” she teased. He turned his head and stared into her eyes for a long moment, then his gaze flickered back to her lips. They were just inches from his, and he couldn’t fight the impulse to lean in and brush his mouth across hers, to seek out her deepest desires. Joey inhaled sharply as his lips touched hers, then abruptly pulled away. 

“On that note, I should go.”

“No,” he pleaded, hating how desperate he sounded, but unable to help it. He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to stay there forever. 

“I have to. I need to get back to the Ice House, see how Bodie’s getting on.”

Pacey had forgotten all about the Ice House until she mentioned it. “Good point. I’ll come with you.”

“Oh, no you don’t. You stay here and rest up. I’ll be back to check on you later.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she jingled his car keys at him. “And I’m taking your car, so you _can’t_ leave.”

“I’m on a boat,” he reminded her. “I could just sail away.”

“And go where? Back to our island?”

The way she referred to it made his heart sing. “Maybe. Wanna come?”

“Tempting, but no.” She opened the door and looked out at the darkening sky. “Besides, it looks like a storm is brewing. I wouldn’t want you getting shipwrecked.”

“Can’t have that.” 

“No, we cannot.” Her tone was light, but the thought of anything happening to him made her insides clench. “So don’t even try. Now be a good patient and finish your sandwich.” 

He followed her out onto the deck, and looked up to see that she was right about the approaching storm. The True Love rocked harder as the wind rose, and he knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep that night. 

“Joey, before you go, can I just say something?”

She turned to face him, the wind whipping through her hair, and he loved her fiercely in that moment, so much so that it scared him. Which was why he had to do this. Why he had to let her go.

“What’s that?” 

“You’re off the hook.”

“What?”

He took a breath, and started to speak. His words tumbled over each other, probably making no sense, but he just kept talking in the hope that eventually he’d say something meaningful or profound. “You and I both know that there’s something between us. Something neither of us have the words for right now, and maybe we never will. I don’t know what this is,” he said, motioning between the two of them, “but I know how it makes me feel.”

“And how’s that?” she asked softly, her voice almost being carried off on the rising wind. 

“Happy. Happier than I’ve ever been before, actually,” he admitted. “And it’s also really important to me that _you_ be happy, and that you can have the life that you want for yourself. Which doesn’t include me, and I know that, and I’ve made peace with it. You shouldn’t be looking back over your shoulder or dwelling on what might have been. You deserve better than that.” _And you deserve better than me._

“Pacey…”

“I know, I know, I have no right to say all that to you - but if I don’t say it now, then I never will. And I just wanted to get it off my chest.” He took a breath, exhaling as he spoke. “So you’re off the hook.”

Joey just looked at him for a long time without speaking. “I feel like I could know you for a thousand years and you’d never stop surprising me,” she said. “And for the record, Pacey, I don’t want to be let off anybody’s hook.”

 _Shit._ He should’ve known she’d take it the wrong way. “Please don’t miss my point here,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t trying to say that you don’t have a choice in the matter, because of course you do. It’s just that I don’t want you to feel obliged to say or do anything for the sake of my feelings, because I’m okay with letting you go.”

Joey’s eyebrows lifted. “Is this some kind of _if you love them, set them free_ crap?” she asked. “Because I’ve never put much faith in that. Look, I know how you feel about me because I feel the same way about you. And it’s completely terrifying, and I don’t know what to do about it. But I’m also not willing to give up on us just yet.”

He blinked at her as the rain started to fall. “You’re not?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not promising anything,” she warned him. “And I still have a lot to figure out. But what I’d really like is for us to try and figure this out together. You think we can do that?”

He grinned so wide that his face hurt. “Yeah, I think that can be arranged.” The rain got heavier as she beamed back at him, and he glanced up at the heavy grey sky. “You want to come back inside, start hashing it out right now?”

“Tempting, but no.” She shivered as the cold droplets hit her bare arms. “Bessie’s going to kill me if I don’t return her husband sometime soon.” She slapped her hand to her forehead, finally remembering the original purpose for her errand. “And I never did bring her those chicken wings!” 

“You better get moving, then,” he said. “Please tell them both I’m incredibly grateful.”

She shrugged. “Tell them yourself when you come over for dinner tonight.”

“When I...really?”

“Yes. Although I’m warning you now, nothing Bodie cooks is going to have fat, meat or preservatives in it. So if you need to load up on calories, best to do it ahead of time.”

“Duly noted.” Pacey followed her to the edge of the boat to disembark. “Poor guy. Working at the Ice House must have been like cruel and unusual punishment for him.”

“He has a newborn baby at home,” Joey reminded him. “I’m sure it felt like a respite for him.” 

Pacey chuckled as he took her hand to help her back onto the dock. The True Love jerked in the water, the rising winds making her shift around more than usual on her moorings. 

“You gonna be okay out here?” Joey asked, looking up at him as he reluctantly relinquished her hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. We’ve been through much worse storms than this one.”

“I’ll come back later and pick you up for dinner. Go get some rest - and don't get shipwrecked before I return.” 

He grinned and nodded, and she smiled back until the rain started to really pour down. With a shriek, Joey turned and ran back up the dock to where his Jeep was parked, just visible through the haze.

Pacey stood in the storm and watched her go, still not quite able to believe that she was real. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that I wrote really fast and I don't know if I've done enough editing on it, but YOLO.  
> Joey's not really as ok with Tamara as this might make her seem, trust me she'll have more words to say about that situation later on but for now it was about letting Pacey speak his truth.  
> Please let me know if you find any errors or typos, I'm off to work on the next chapter.


	9. Home Cooking

**_I run my fingers through your hair_ ** **_  
_** **_And watch the lights go wild_ **

* * *

“So, Pacey. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

Pacey’s head shot up to see Bessie staring at him from across the dining room table. 

“Quit it, Bessie,” Joey interjected before he could say anything, then turned to Pacey. “You don’t have to answer that. This is dinner, not an interrogation,” she added, returning her glare to her sister. 

Bessie shrugged. “I’m just trying to get to know the guy.”

“It’s okay, Joey,” he said, but she spoke again before he could respond to her sister’s query. 

“Where do _you_ see _yourself_ in five years?” Joey demanded of Bessie. “How many more rugrats do you think you’ll have squirted out by then? The place will be crawling with them.”

As if on cue, Alexander started to cry. 

“What crawled up your butt and laid eggs?” Bessie demanded as Bodie jumped up, his chair scraping across the floor in his rush to escape the conversation.

“I’ll check on him.”

“He’s probably hungry,” Bessie called after her husband. “Bring him to me.” She started unbuttoning the top of her summer dress, and Joey’s eyes went wide.

“You’re not actually going to start breastfeeding at the dinner table, are you?” Joey asked, shooting a scandalized look at her sister. “In case you’ve forgotten, we have company.”

“In case _you’ve_ forgotten, this is my house, and I’ll feed my child whenever and wherever I like,” Bessie snapped back. “If Pacey doesn’t like it, _he_ can leave.”

“Uh, I’m good,” Pacey muttered, shoveling another mouthful of Bodie’s vegan lasagna into his mouth with his eyes averted. “You do you, Bessie.” 

“Thank you.” She smirked across the table at Joey, who was scowling back furiously. “At least someone around here has some manners.”

Joey dropped her fork onto her plate. “I can’t _believe_ you.”

“Jo, it’s fine.” Pacey reached over and put a hand on her arm. “Really.”

Joey inhaled sharply through her nostrils, then looked over at Pacey. He gave her a steady look, followed by a knowing wink. Her face softened into a smile, and the tension dropped out of her shoulders. “Fine. I’m sorry. This is your house, Bess. Do what you want.” She picked up her fork again and resumed eating.

Bessie just stared at her, then at Pacey, then back at her sister. “What just happened?” 

“Nothing. I apologised.”

“I know. That’s why I’m so shocked.”

Joey rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me take it back.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Bessie broke into a smile of her own as Bodie came into the room, carrying Alexander. The baby was still wailing, but he soon quieted as Bessie latched him onto her breast. Holding him with one arm, she resumed eating her dinner as he began his. 

Bodie sat down, beaming proudly at his wife and child before looking over at Pacey. “So, uh, what happened to your hand?”

Pacey swallowed his mouthful. “Had an accident with a boning knife.”

“Ah.” Bodie winced. “I’ve been there.”

“Yeah, turns out it wasn’t my own hand I was supposed to be de-boning. Who knew?” He chatted easily as he ate, keeping his eyes diverted from Bessie’s bared breast. “And to answer your earlier question, Bessie, the honest response is _I don’t know._ I haven’t really got a five year plan. Or even a one year plan. I just take things as they come, one day at a time.” He shrugged as he popped a floret of broccoli into his mouth. 

“You two really are polar opposites,” Bessie mused, looking between him and Joey. “Little Miss Tightly Wound over here has had a five year plan since she was five years old, and absolutely nothing has ever been able to knock her off that track.” Her eyes gleamed as she looked at Pacey again. “Until now, anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” Pacey asked, breaking into a mischievous smile as he leaned back in his chair and looked at Joey. “Interesting.”

Bodie chuckled. “And the plot thickens,” he intoned in a movie commentator voice.

Joey’s scowl deepened. “Stop it. All of you. We’re not doing this. I invited Pacey over for a nice meal and some good company, and I’d like to hold up my end of the bargain, not expose him to an evening of Potter family dysfunction.”

Pacey laughed. “Are you kidding? This is nothing. The Witter family dysfunction would eat you all for breakfast and burp you up for lunch.”

“Speaking of which,” Bessie said as she transferred Alexander onto her shoulder. “I think you’re about to get a front row seat to a truly impressive display.”

Pacey grinned. “Bring it on, little man. Show us what you’ve got.” As if on cue, Alexander promptly burped a stream of milky residue onto Bessie’s shoulder, and Pacey gave an approving nod. “Nicely done.”

“His one talent so far,” Joey said with a wry smile. 

Pacey grinned at her before shovelling another forkload of lasagna into his mouth, completely unfazed by the milky vomit just two feet away. 

Joey smiled to herself as she added a second helping of salad to her own plate while Bodie went and fetched Bessie a hand towel. David would’ve vacated the premises as soon as the notion of breastfeeding in his presence had come up, let alone been happy to continue eating in the face of a vomiting newborn. As she ate, Bodie and Pacey chatted about their various experiences working in commercial kitchens, and within minutes, Pacey had them all howling over a story about fish sticks, of all things.

“I like this guy,” Bodie declared as he stood up to clear the table. “He knows how to tell a story.”

“Thank you. I’ve always felt that’s been one of my more underappreciated talents.” 

“You have appreciated talents?” Joey teased, and he wagged his finger at her playfully. 

“Hey, now. Just because _you_ don’t appreciate me, doesn’t mean nobody else does.”

“If you say so.” She got to her feet and picked up his empty plate. “I guess you were hungry.”

“I’m always hungry,” he said. “And that was a great meal.”

Joey leaned in as Bodie carried the first stack of dishes into the adjoining kitchen. “It’s okay. He’s out of earshot. You can tell us how you really felt about lentil lasagna.”

Pacey sat back in his chair and placed his left hand over his stomach, patting it contentedly. “No complaints here, Potter. If it always tastes that good, I’ll eat what Bodie’s cooking any day of the week.” 

“Good to know. If we ever have leftovers, I’ll give you a call,” Bessie said cheerfully. “Jo, can you take Alexander for a minute while I go to the bathroom? I’m about to pee myself if I don’t go now, but he’ll cry if I put him down too soon.”

“Thanks for the overshare,” Joey muttered. “Just give me a moment to get rid of these dishes. And preemptively change my shirt,” she added, eyeing Bessie’s shoulder.

“I can take him,” Pacey offered. “If you like.” Bessie turned to look at him suspiciously, and he shrugged. “I have three sisters. Two of them have reproduced, one of them multiple times. Rest assured that Uncle Pacey knows how to hold a baby.”

Bessie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her need for the bathroom not having been an exaggeration. “You’ve only got one usable arm,” she pointed out. 

“I’m not going to drop him,” Pacey assured her, then slipped his right hand out of his sling. “Besides, this thing’s mostly for decoration. A failed attempt at garnering the sympathy vote, or a successful way to avoid doing dishes. You decide.” 

“Sure it’s not both?” Bessie asked, amused, as Pacey stood up and held out his arms for the baby.

Her trepidation was quickly overruled by her desperate need to relieve her bladder, so she handed her son over to him. Pacey got Alexander settled against his shoulder, and was holding him easily in place with his large hand splayed across the baby’s back when Joey turned around from stacking the dishwasher and saw him. 

Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Pacey walk a circle around the kitchen table, rubbing the baby’s back and murmuring to him. A flash of forked lightning lit up the sky outside, and Pacey turned to look at it. 

“Hey, look at that! Your very own fireworks show,” he told Alexander, who responded by releasing a milky expulsion down his back. 

“If she was going to leave you holding the baby, the least she could’ve done was to give you a towel,” Joey said, and Pacey turned to face her with a grin.

“That’s okay. I never really liked this shirt.” 

“That makes two of us.”

Pacey shot her a look of mock offence, and she stuck her tongue out at him between her teeth. Thunder rumbled overhead, and Alexander whimpered. Pacey soothed him with a quiet word as Joey turned around and wetted a kitchen cloth, wishing she could dab it against the back of her neck to try and cool herself down. Seeing Pacey hold a baby was making her ovaries feel like they were about to explode. Bodie shot her a knowing look as she went back over Pacey, who was staring out of the window, watching for the next flash of lightning. 

“Hold still.” She wiped at the baby sick on the back of his shirt, and he turned his head and looked over his shoulder at her, his scruff brushing against the top of Alexander’s soft curls. Joey’s ovaries flipped into overdrive, and she felt her whole body flush hot. _Damn those pheromones._ She wasn’t sure if it was the smell of Alexander, or Pacey’s mild cologne, or everything combined, but this kind of close proximity was having a completely unexpected effect on her. Joey had never considered herself to be a particularly maternal person, and hadn’t thought seriously about having her own children - at least not any time soon - but her hormones had not received the memo that the logical part of her brain was desperately sending out. Pacey just kept looking at her with his intense blue eyes, the same colour as the ocean on that day they’d spent out on the boat. The day she’d had more fun and felt more relaxed than she had in years.

Finding her voice, Joey squeaked out a question. “Do you...uh, do you want me to take him?”

“We’re okay,” he assured her. He patted Alexander’s back again, and the baby let out one more tiny stream of vomit which Joey managed to catch on her towel with a soft curse. Pacey shrugged, unfazed. “Better out than in, I always say.”

“Thanks, Pacey.” Bessie returned to the room and held her arms out for her son. Pacey handed him over to her, and Alexander nestled happily into his mother’s embrace. “Oh crap, sorry about your shirt. Give it to Joey, and she’ll throw it in the wash for you.” 

Joey raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Or I’ll burn it.”

Pacey narrowed his eyes at her as Bessie shook her head at her sister. “You can borrow one from Bodie while you wait,” she told Pacey. 

“That’s not really necessary. I’m sure it’ll come out in the wash,” he said as Joey continued dabbing at his back. “Or if not, it’ll be a memento of our evening.”

“I’m not sure this is the kind of memento you really want to keep,” Joey said. 

“Well, it’s no demonic green teddy bear,” he agreed.

She grinned wide. “Or oversized purple giraffe.”

“Exactly.” 

Behind her, Bessie rummaged through a basket of clean laundry that was sitting on the end of the couch, and pulled out a tie-dyed orange t-shirt. “Here. This is clean.” 

“Okay, you’ve persuaded me,” Pacey said. “Who am I to resist the allure of orange tie-dye? But I’ll have you know that it usually takes a lot more than this to get me to take my clothes off in front of beautiful women,” he said as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Joey replied drily. “Your reputation precedes you, remember?”

Pacey winced. “I thought you said we weren’t going to talk about that.” Joey mimed zipping her lips shut, and he grinned. “Now do you think you could help me out here?” he asked, fumbling at the buttons. “I’ve only got one good hand.”

“And whose fault is that?” 

But she did as he asked, uncomfortably aware of Bessie’s eyes on her as she reached out and unfastened the row of buttons that led down his chest. She was doing her very best to avoid letting her fingertips touch his skin, but she knew her face was flushed and her hands were shaking as she slowly pulled his shirt open and slid it off his broad shoulders. Pacey turned around so she could pull it down his arms, fumbling the sling over his head with his good hand first, and Joey tried not to look at his bare torso. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen it all before, during their day on the boat. But somehow it was different now, away from the beach setting. It was far more intimate, for a start, since she was the one undressing him.

Turning away quickly, Joey grabbed the tie-dye shirt and threw it to him. Pacey caught it against his chest. 

“Cover yourself up, Witter.”

“Phew!” Bessie pretended to fan herself from her seat on the couch. Alexander was curled up against her, his dark eyes wide and staring. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”

Joey glared at her as Pacey pulled the t-shirt on over his head, slid his arms through one at a time, then tugged the slightly too-small shirt down over his flat stomach. The garish garment clung to the muscles in his arms and torso, but its violent combination of orange and purple did nothing for Pacey’s complexion. 

“That looks terrible on you.”

“No. Really?”

“Hideous,” Joey confirmed, sitting down in her sister’s easy chair and tucking her feet up underneath her. “I’m completely turned off.”

Pacey looked down at the shirt with a frown, then back at her. “Damn. Well, I guess there’s only one thing to do.” He grabbed the hem of the t-shirt with his good hand and started to pull it off again. 

“Pacey!” 

He stopped with the t-shirt halfway off, and looked at her. “What? I’m just trying to improve the view.”

“Enough,” Joey said, unable to hide her smile as Pacey pulled the shirt back down. “Keep your clothes on, okay?”

“At least until the lights go out,” Bessie added with a wink, and Pacey grinned back at her as he joined her on the couch. 

“You two are as bad as each other,” Joey sniffed. 

“What can I say? We’re incorrigible,” Pacey said smugly.

She smiled. “You looked it up?”

Pacey grinned at her. “Told you you’re a good influence on me.”

The storm raged on, showing no signs of abating. They took turns holding the baby while Joey and Bessie worked on a jigsaw puzzle, and Bodie did a series of yoga stretches that he insisted would aid his digestion. Intrigued, Pacey sent Joey into hysterics as he tried - and failed spectacularly - to mimic her brother-in-law’s flexibility. 

“Okay, I give up.” He flopped onto his back on the floor. “I don’t know how you do that, man. But it does give me insight into how you snagged a woman as beautiful as Bessie.”

Bessie fluttered her eyelashes at him as Joey, who was in the middle of setting up the Monopoly board, threw a tiny metal top hat in his direction. It hit him on the cheek as he sat up, and he raised a hand to the side of his face.

“Easy, now. I think the goal of this evening should be to avoid head injuries.”

“Quit flirting with my sister, then.”

“Why, Miss Potter. Are you jealous?”

“Me? Hardly.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s a married woman.”

“So is Heather Locklear, and if I met her…” He started to say, then laughed at the look on her face. He picked up the top hat off the floor between thumb and forefinger, inspected it for a moment, then perched it on top of his head, where it disappeared into the mass of loose curls. “How’s it look?”

“How does what look?” Joey asked, peering at him. “I know not of which you speak.”

“You need a haircut, boy,” Bessie declared as Pacey leaned forward and shook his head until the top hat fell out onto the floor. 

“So your sister keeps telling me. I offered to let her do it, but she chickened out.”

“I think there’s been enough blood loss for one day,” Joey said at the same time as Bessie spoke again.

“I’ll do it,” she offered. Pacey swivelled his head to look at her. “What? I cut Bodie’s hair all the time.”

Bodie rolled up into a sitting position and ran his hand through his hair, preening himself. “It’s true. And it looks amazing.”

“Then by all means,” Pacey said with a shrug. “Have at it.”

“This is a terrible idea.” Joey leaned against the kitchen counter and watched her sister run a comb through Pacey’s thick curls. “You’re going to regret this.”

“You can always save me by doing it yourself.”

“You’d regret that more,” Bessie told him, picking up the scissors and snipping them enticingly. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Bessie looked over at her sister. “You want to tackle the facial hair at the same time?” 

“Hey, now,” Pacey objected. “Let’s not mess with the beard, okay?”

“Please, it’s hardly a beard,” Joey retorted, turning a kitchen chair around backwards before sitting down on it. “More like scruff, really. And you do realise you’re supposed to trim it, right?”

“Okay, that’s it.” Pacey shook his head and started to stand up. “I’m out.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Bessie clamped her hand down on top of his head, pushing him back down onto the chair. “Now hold still, unless you want to risk losing an ear.”

Joey rested her arms on the back of her chair, watching in amusement as Bessie trimmed Pacey’s hair. She started slow, a little hesitant, only cutting an inch or so off the ends. 

“Shorter,” Joey said, resting her chin on her arms as she observed them. “Take more off.”

Bessie obediently made a dramatic snip, and Pacey flinched. 

“Is it too late to ask you to stop?”

“Yes,” both Potter sisters replied at once, then laughed in unison. “Relax, Pacey. I have been trained for this. I have a certificate and everything.” 

“You do?” Joey straightened up, surprised. “I didn’t know that.” 

“I took a course last year. I’d just started working at a salon when I got pregnant,” Bessie told her sister, snipping steadily at Pacey’s hair. He tried to ignore the length of the locks falling to the floor, reminding himself that if worst came to worst, he could just shave it all off later. “Once I found out there was a baby coming, I didn’t want to expose myself to that many chemicals, so I quit.” 

“You never told me any of that,” Joey said with a frown.

Bessie shrugged. “You were always so busy with your own life, getting promotions and moving into penthouse apartments, I guess it didn’t seem important.”

“It _is_ important, Bess.” Joey had flinched slightly at the mention of the penthouse, but she looked her sister in the eyes as she spoke. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Bessie didn’t seem enthused by her sister’s encouragement. “It’s not an Ivy League law degree, but it’s something.” She clamped her hands to the sides of Pacey’s head, straightening it. “Hold still, okay?”

“Sorry.” 

Joey stood up. “I should get those dishes finished,” she muttered. “That lasagna pan’s not going to scrub itself.”

“All done.”

Pacey stood up, running his hand back and forth through his shorter hair. It felt okay, but Bessie had cut it without giving him a mirror, so he had no idea how the end result looked. Bodie had put Alexander down, and gone to bed himself. He had a six a.m. start the following morning. Joey was still in the adjoining kitchen, drying dishes with her back to him. 

“Hey, Jo. How do I look?”

She turned and looked over her shoulder at him, and her heart skipped a beat. _Damn._ He’d always been an attractive man - she’d noticed that from the moment she’d first seen him - but it was a good thing that he was still wearing that hideous tie-dyed t-shirt or she’d have been tempted to jump his bones, right then and there. 

“Better,” was all she managed to say. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” He walked up to her and looked at his reflection in the dark window. “You don’t think I’ll need to shave it all off in the morning before I dare show my face in public?”

“I think you’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Bessie did a great job.”

“Thanks.” Bessie had started sweeping up the fallen locks of Pacey’s hair, but he quickly intercepted. 

“Let me do that,” he insisted. “It’s the least I can do, since you just saved me nine bucks.”

She grinned. “Pity for you I charge twenty.” Pacey stopped sweeping and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Bessie shook her head, laughing. “That was a joke. You don’t have to pay me.”

“Why not? You provided a service, and I’m willing to bet that hairdressing certificate didn’t cost you nothing.”

“True,” Bessie admitted. “But I’m not taking your money. You’re a friend.”

Joey loved the way he smiled - slowly, then all at once. “I’m flattered,” he told Bessie. “Tell you what. Next time you’re at the Ice House, you eat for free.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Bessie said, yawning. “In the meantime, save your money to take my sister out again sometime.” She winked at Pacey, who grinned back at her as Joey clattered dishes pointedly into the sink and scowled at her sister’s reflection. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to hit the hay.”

“But we were going to play Monopoly,” Joey protested, spinning around to face them and releasing a spray of soap suds off the dish brush she clutched. 

Bessie brushed the suds off her dress. “I’m too tired. And I hate Monopoly.”

“Because you always lose.”

“And you always win. I don’t need a board game to remind me of my impending financial ruin, thanks very much.” Bessie caught her sister’s expression and shook her head. “Ignore me. Like I said, I’m tired. Good night, Jo. Pacey.” 

“Night.” He watched Joey give her sister a hug as he swept his hair off the floor and dumped it into the trash. “It’s getting kinda late. You can drop me home whenever you want.”

Joey’s expression was incredulous. “Are you kidding? Pacey, have you failed to notice that the storm is still raging out there? I’m not taking you back to sleep on that tiny little boat in this weather. Just stay here.”

“She’s not a tiny little boat,” he objected, then looked around the tiny two-bedroom cottage. “Where am I supposed to sleep? You already told me that you have to crash on the couch, so I’m guessing there’s no guest bedroom on offer.”

“The couch folds out. There’s room for two.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

Joey shrugged. “Well if you _want_ to sleep on the floor, don’t let me stop you.”

He didn’t sleep on the floor. The lure of the sofa bed was too great to resist, especially since it meant lying next to her, with just inches of space between their bodies. He lay on his back with his bandaged hand across his chest and his other arm behind his head, trying to calm his own heart rate as Joey came back into the room after taking a quick shower. She was wearing a pale blue tank top and dark blue pyjama shorts, and in the soft lamplight, was easily the most beautiful woman Pacey had ever seen. 

“You good if I turn this out?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the pull-out bed and reaching for the lamp. 

“Yeah.” 

He closed his eyes as she switched the light off. He tried very hard not to pay attention to the way the mattress shifted under him as she moved around, did his very best not to listen to the soft sounds she made, to ignore the way her foot brushed against his ankle as she adjusted her position in bed. She mumbled an apology, then rolled over and faced away from him. It was stupid to feel hurt by that - she had a _boyfriend_ , for crying out loud - but Pacey had always been kinda stupid. 

She’d shifted her position twice before he spoke. “Would you lie still, woman?”

“Sorry,” she grumbled. “This dumb mattress is so uncomfortable.”

“You can always take the floor.”

“Hard pass.” She wriggled around again. “I can’t wait to get back to my own bed. I just can’t get comfortable on this thing.”

He ignored the mention of her bed in Boston, determined not to think about that, or the man who slept in it with her every night. Lucky bastard. “You know, I could probably help with that last part,” he teased instead.

“Boundaries, Pacey.”

“Right.” He sighed. “Sure you don’t want to put a line of pillows down the middle of this bed to make sure I stay on my side?”

She snorted. “Hardly seems necessary. You wouldn’t dare try anything.”

“No. I’m too afraid that Bessie would beat me up,” he admitted, rolling onto his side, facing away from her. Sleeping on his back might be comfortable for his injured hand, but it also made him think way too much about how easy it would be for Joey to just slide a leg over him, to press her slim, warm body against his, for their lips to find each other in the darkness. “Although I’ll bet Bodie’s got some moves, and he’s definitely way stronger than he looks.”

“He is. But for the record, I’m perfectly capable of beating you up myself,” Joey assured him. “I’ve been to self-defence class, you know.” As she shifted again, the mattress sagged in the middle, making her slid backwards towards him until their rear ends touched. It felt like an electric shock, and she moved quickly. “Pacey, would you get your butt away from me?” 

“My butt wants nothing to do with your butt.” 

It was a childish retort, and one he didn’t remotely mean. His butt would love to have a _lot_ to do with hers. But he couldn’t tell her that. Although he suspected that she knew, even if she wouldn’t acknowledge it.

True to form, Joey scoffed as she scooted a little further away from him. The bed springs creaked beneath her, and Pacey forced his eyes closed and tried to find sleep as the storm continued raging around the cottage. 

When Pacey woke the next morning, the storm outside had died down. Joey’s head was resting against his shoulder, and her arm was flung across his stomach. He lay very still, trying not to wake her as he turned his head slowly and stared at her. She looked so peaceful. The frown that so often knit her brow was gone, and her breathing was slow and relaxed. He didn’t know how long he lay there for, just watching her sleep. Her mouth was slightly open, and a small patch of drool dampened his shoulder. Somewhere in the house, a door closed. Joey tilted her head back, and began to snore. 

“Okay, Potter.” He shifted away from her, and she blinked into wakefulness as her head dropped onto the mattress. “You kept me up half the night with that, I’m not listening to it again.”

“Wha--?” She rolled away from him, her face flushing as she self-consciously wiped the drool from her chin. “Ugh. Was I drooling on you? I’m sorry.”

Pacey reached over and brushed at the small damp patch on his shoulder. “If I’d known I’d wake up with Lake Ontario on my shirt, I’d never have agreed to sleep with you.”

“Rude,” she grumbled, slapping at him playfully. 

Her hand connected with his bandaged one, and Pacey sucked in air through his teeth as he cradled his hand against his chest, the pain jolting him wide awake. 

“Oh please, I barely--oh, crap!” Joey’s eyes widened as she realised what she’d done. “Are you okay?”

Pacey nodded through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.” 

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

“I’ll be okay in a minute.” Pacey took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “Unless you’re offering to kiss me better. That might help?”

Joey was propped up on her elbow, looking at him. She raised her eyebrows, kissed the tip of her finger, then pressed it lightly to his bandaged hand. 

Pacey grinned up at her. “Hey would you look at that? All better. How’d you do that?”

She wiggled her fingers at him. “Magic.”

“Witchcraft, you say? I always knew you were a witch.”

Joey’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Bite me, Pacey.”

He couldn’t resist leaning across and giving her bare arm a quick nip. Joey’s mouth dropped open, and she quickly wiped her hand across her bicep. 

“Ugh, gross.”

“You should be careful what you wish for,” he said lightly, the taste of her skin on his lips as Bessie came into the room in a faded green dressing gown, Alexander in her arms. 

“Morning, you two,” she said with a grin. “Sleep well?”

“Next to Tyranno-snore-us Rex over here? Not particularly.”

“What? I don’t snore!” Joey objected. 

“I beg to differ.” 

Bessie laughed. “I gotta back him up on this one, Jo. When you get going, it’s like a freight train running through the room.”

Joey’s jaw dropped, and she stared at Pacey. 

“A cute freight train,” he said helpfully.

“Hasn’t David complained about it?” Bessie asked curiously. “I mean, how can you live with a guy for two years and not know that you snore like a bear with a head cold?”

Pacey chuckled, and Joey shot him a death glare. “I’m not that bad.”

“How would you know? You can’t hear yourself,” Bessie retorted. 

Joey swung her legs over the edge of the bed, then stood up. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Denial,” she heard Bessie telling Pacey as she left the room. “We shared a room briefly when I was a kid, and the number of times I almost smothered her with a pillow…” 

Pacey’s laughter followed her down the hall.

Joey stepped into the hot shower and closed her eyes, letting the water run across her face and down her body. She’d just had her best night’s sleep in a long time, and she couldn’t deny that it was due, at least in part, to Pacey’s presence. The nightmare that had afflicted her for years had crept into her dreams again last night, polluting what had been a fairly generic dream involving growing vegetables on a sailboat. She tried not to think too hard about what that might mean. She’d been harvesting carrots from the mainsail when the monster had grabbed her. It still had no real form in her dreams, just a creeping, clawing hand with long nails that snatched at her legs and waist, pulling her backwards. Always backwards, always landing hard on her back and getting the breath knocked out of her. If she was lucky, the jolt on landing would be enough to wake Joey up and allow her to escape from the nightmare, and last night, she’d been lucky. 

She’d woken with a start, her heart racing and skin clammy, fear racing up and down her spine. She had lain still for a moment, her mind slowly adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings. The wind was still roaring outside, and she heard a tree branch crack, then the dull thud as it hit the ground. Joey had rolled over, tugging the covers up higher, trying to banish the nightmare from her memory. Then Pacey had shifted in his sleep, reminding her that he was there. She’d stayed still for a long time, staring at his profile as he breathed slowly in and out, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Drawn almost magnetically toward him, she’d slowly crept closer, moving cautiously so as not to wake him. Her body ached for comfort, for his arms to wrap around her and hold her tight, for his deep voice to murmur reassuring words to her. For his lips to press against hers and kiss her until she forgot her fears. Slowly, almost subconsciously, Joey had drifted across the bed until her forehead rested against his shoulder. She’d burrowed her face against his arm, closed her eyes, and listened to him breathing until she’d fallen back asleep. 

In the shower, Joey turned around and let the water flow through her long hair. David _was_ aware of her snoring. Of course he was. At first he’d just teased her about it, but soon he’d started complaining that it was interrupting his sleep. He’d shift her over onto her side, being careful initially not to wake her, but progressively caring less and less about that. Lately, he’d just nudge her until she woke up to tell her in his passive-aggressive way that she had been snoring again. Then she’d lie awake in bed, waiting for him to fall asleep again first. It had become a habit now to stay awake until she knew he was asleep. On the bright side, she did get a lot of books read, burrowing under the covers with her Kindle and reading as she waited for him to drift off. Last night, she’d tried to wait for Pacey to fall asleep first, but she’d been so tired from dealing with Alexander that she’d beaten him to it. And now it turned out that not only had she snored, but she’d drooled all over him, too. Not to mention draped herself across him in her sleep. 

Joey squirted a dollop of her sister’s organic shampoo into her palm, then lathered it through her hair. She’d never once woken up snuggled up against David like that. It seemed that even when she was unconscious, her body had sought out the comfort of Pacey’s. She’d told Pacey before that she was with David because he was safe, but she was starting to wonder now if that was entirely accurate, because he’d never made her feel as safe as she had last night. 

Out of the shower and dressed for the day, she found Pacey in the kitchen, making pancakes while Bessie sat at the kitchen table, feeding Alexander. 

“Are you auditioning for some Man of the Year competition that I don’t know about?” Joey asked, plucking a blueberry out of the punnet on the counter and popping it into her mouth.. “Because I gotta say, so far you’re a shoe-in.”

“Blame your sister,” he told Joey. “She’s the one who demanded pancakes.”

“I did nothing of the sort!” Bessie objected. “I just happened to mention that I was in the mood for pancakes, but that Bodie had left for work already, and I wasn’t sure if I could be bothered making them myself.”

“They really have him working crazy hours down at the ol’ Chowderbucket,” Pacey commented, pouring batter into the hot pan. 

“That would be Howard, the manager,” Bessie said, rolling her eyes. “Always insisting that Bodie goes down to the docks and snags the freshest fish on offer.”

“Well, he’s got no competition from us. Most of what we serve arrives pre-frozen in a bucket.” Joey pulled a face, which he didn’t miss. “Don’t make fun of my source of income.”

“I guess we should be grateful you’re not trying to deep fry the pancakes right now,” Joey teased him. 

“Careful, or you won’t get any,” he replied, pointing the spatula at her in warning. 

“Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Joey giggled, grabbing another handful of blueberries and shoving them into her mouth. 

“What are you going to eat? That’s supposed to be your breakfast."

Joey shot him a wicked look, then held up one of the blueberries between her thumb and forefinger. “Open wide,” she prompted. 

“I want you to think very carefully about what you do next.” The blueberry bounced off his cheek, and his eyes followed its trajectory onto the floor. “Joey…”

“Stop wasting food,” Bessie piped up from the other side of the room. 

Ignoring her sister, Joey threw another blueberry at Pacey’s head. This time, he had his eye on it. He ducked slightly and caught it in his mouth, then raised his hands above his head in a victory pose. Joey tossed another blueberry into the air and caught it in her own mouth, then grinned at him. 

Pacey’s heart felt as if it had melted inside his chest and seeped into his bloodstream, and was now flowing through his entire body, every pore of his being suffused with utter adoration for this woman. He didn’t know how he’d made it through twenty-five years of his life without her, but now that he’d met her, he had no idea how he was going to stand back and watch her leave.

After breakfast, Bessie expressed a desire to head to a farmer’s market in a nearby town. Joey invited Pacey to join them, but he declined in favour of going to check on the True Love. Not to mention that he was due to start work at midday. 

She seemed disappointed as she walked him out to his car. It was a bright morning, the sun beating furiously down on the wreckage the storm had left behind. The elm tree in the front yard had dropped a large branch onto the sidewalk, thankfully missing his Jeep. 

“I can come back later and cut that up for you.”

“With one hand?” she asked dubiously. “It’s fine. Bodie can do it.” 

“Bodie’s working insane hours right now, and has a newborn at home,” he reminded her. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort something out.”

“You don’t need to do that, you know.” She stopped walking, and he stopped next to her. 

“Do what?”

“Try to fix everything.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“I know you are. I just don’t want you tying yourself in knots to try and help out around here--”

“Maybe I like helping people.” he shrugged. “And I like your family.”

“What about your own family?” 

His face clouded. “What about them? They don’t need me,” he shrugged. “Never have, never will.”

“Maybe that’ll change.” Joey reached over and took hold of his good hand. “Sometimes people can surprise you.”

Pacey looked down at their joined hands, then back at her. “You wanna be surprised, huh?” he asked with a glint in his eye. “Dance with me.”

Joey frowned. “What?”

Without speaking, Pacey lifted his arm over her head and twirled her around. Giggling, Joey followed his lead as he pulled her into his arms and began a basic foxtrot.

“What are you doing?”

“Dancing.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He twirled her around again, then grabbed her hand in his left one and spun her out to the end of his arm before pulling her back in. Joey pirouetted into his embrace, grinning up at him as their ribcages pressed together. Pacey swallowed hard, staring into her beautiful green-brown eyes. 

“Where did you learn to dance like that?”

“Andie made me take lessons.” He switched to a waltz, and Joey moved smoothly with him, following his lead. “After the Homecoming dance, where I refused to dance with her because I said I didn’t know how. She took it upon herself to remedy the situation.”

Joey tilted her head back and looked at him. “You really will do anything for the people you love, won’t you?” 

Pacey leaned in closer, a smoky look in his blue eyes. “You have no idea.” 

Joey stopped dancing. She wasn’t sure if that was a conscious decision or whether her limbs had just stopped working. Heat flooded through her body, her insides rumbling with desire. She stepped backwards, knowing she had to put some space between them before she threw herself into his arms and kissed him senseless. 

“You should go.”

He sighed, which only stoked the flame inside her, but he backed off. “Tell Bessie thanks for everything.”

“Tell her yourself. I guarantee you she’s watching us from the window.” 

Grinning, he glanced up at the house and waved. Lowering his head closer to hers, he spoke softly in her ear. “What d’you say we really give her something to look at?” 

Fighting every instinct inside her body, Joey reached up and placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back. “Down, boy.”

“Okay, okay.” He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, then frowned. “I’m still getting used to this.”

“It really does look much better,” she said. “Bordering on attractive, even.”

“Is that right? Your sister must be a miracle worker,” he replied cheekily. “Or she’s _also_ a witch.”

Joey chuckled. “Crap, you’ve uncovered our secret.” She looked over her shoulder at the house. “I can’t help feeling like I don’t appreciate her enough.”

“Such is the way with siblings. I definitely don’t appreciate my sister enough.”

“I thought you had three sisters.”

“I do. But I only like one of them.”

“Gretchen, right?” she asked, and he nodded. “I hope to meet her someday.”

“Someday, you will.” He caught her hand in his, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “So, when will I see you next?” 

Joey frowned. “I’m not sure. I have to go back to Boston soon.”

Pacey’s heart thumped. “How soon?”

“I’m not sure. In a day or two, maybe. My emails are piling up.” 

Panic clenched his heart in a vice-like grip, making it difficult to breathe. “But I’ll see you again before you leave, right?” 

“I won’t go anywhere without saying goodbye,” she assured him.

He was still holding her hand, and he raised it to his mouth and softly kissed the back of her knuckles. “Promise?”

Joey smiled as she nodded, squeezing his fingers gently. “I promise.” He dropped her hand, and she let it hang at her side, feeling bereft already of his touch. “I hope your boat’s still floating when you get there.”

“She’ll be fine. She knows how to weather a storm.”

Her mouth curved up in a half-smile. “That’s good to know.”

When Joey returned to the house, she found Bessie sitting on the couch, waiting for her. 

“So, did you kiss him?”

Joey huffed out an exasperated breath and went back into the living room. Bessie followed her.

“What, like you weren’t watching through the window?” she demanded. “So you _know_ that nothing happened.”

“You call that nothing? There was enough sexual tension out there to power a KISS reunion tour.”

Joey pulled a face. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’ve got a pretty big decision to make.”

Joey sank onto the couch and buried her face in her hands. “I know. I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t know?” Bessie asked incredulously. “Then I’ll tell you. You need to go back to Boston and break up with David, then come back to Capeside and convince that man--” Bessie punctuated her statement by pointing toward the window, where Pacey’s Jeep was driving away “--to move to Boston and live with you.”

Joey blinked at her. “I’m sorry, _what_?” 

“You heard me.”

“I know you don’t like David, that much has been made crystal clear to me, but ask Pacey to move to Boston? Are you insane?”

“Why not? What’s he got that’s keeping him here?” Bessie demanded. “He admitted himself that he’s got no concrete plans for the future.”

“I think you’re overlooking a few things, Bessie.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like one, he doesn’t have a job in Boston.”

“He’s a smart, friendly guy, and he’s capable of cooking a lot more than fried chicken. He’ll figure it out.”

“Two, he has family in Capeside.”

“Dysfunctional family that he can’t stand being around. I’ve met his brother, Joey. There’s no way those two get along.” 

“Three,” Joey said through gritted teeth. “I’ve known the guy for three weeks. I can’t just up and ask him to move his entire life to be with me.”

“Why not? I guarantee you he’d do it. What’s your next excuse?”

“I don’t even know how I feel about him.”

“Okay, these excuses are getting stupider and stupider. Just admit it, Joey. Pacey Witter is the love of your life.” 

Joey scoffed incredulously, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. “ _What_ did you say?”

“I said--”

“I heard what you said. I just can’t quite believe my ears. Aren’t you the one who told me that _this isn’t forever_? That this should be some meaningless fling and then I should just leave him behind and get on with my life?”

“Yes. But then I saw you two together. You’re crazy about him, and he’s obviously crazy about you. You two are soulmates.”

“Oh, please. Don’t even start with that crap, Bessie.”

“I know you don’t believe it, but it’s true. It’s not just the way you look at each other. It’s the way he calmed you down when you were about to go off at me. I’ve never seen anyone do that before. I didn’t know anyone _could_ do that. He came to the hospital to see you, brought you food without being prompted, took you to a carnival, brought me fried dough--”

“Good to know the way to _your_ heart,” Joey muttered.

“--and you’ve gone out of your way to help him, too. You waitressed at his restaurant for free when he was short-staffed, you drove him to the medical centre, you invited him for dinner and shared your bed with him last night.” She paused. “Have I missed anything?”

Joey looked at the painting on the wall behind her sister’s head. It was one of their mom’s. “He got me to paint,” she said softly.

“What?”

“The day we went out on his boat. I guess I’d told him that Mom was an artist, and that I’d taken art in high school but dropped it because I didn’t have time to pursue something that wasn’t going to make any money.” She ignored the sad look on Bessie’s face at those words. “He brought along some art supplies, and asked me to paint him a picture.”

Her sister’s face was incredulous. “And did you?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that. Just because he asked.”

Joey waved a dismissive hand at her sister. “It’s hanging it in his boat. It’s not like anyone will ever see it.”

“Except him.” Bessie shook her head. “Joey, ever since you got here, you’ve been changing. I’ve seen you slow down and relax right in front of my eyes. You smile more, you laugh more, you crack jokes and tease me the way you used to. I thought it was the cleaner air and slower lifestyle here that was having that effect, but now I’m doubting myself. I think it’s him. I don’t know exactly how he’s done it, but he’s brought my sister back.”

The flood of emotions hit Joey like a sledgehammer. It was all too real. She could pretend - had been pretending - that Pacey was just a friend, a brief flirtatious dalliance. That the person she was when she was with him was some carefree girl that she was pretending to be, not the truest version of herself. The ache, deep in her bones, to be that person again was overwhelming. But it couldn’t happen. It didn’t make sense. 

“I can’t do this, Bessie.” Joey stood up, but Bessie grabbed her arm and held her still. 

“Just answer me this, Jo. Look forward five years and try to imagine your happiest future. Not your most successful, or the one you _think_ you want. What would make you happy?” Her eyes danced suggestively. “ _Who_ would make you happy?”

Joey’s cheeks were wet before she’d even realised she was crying. “Just stop. Please,” she begged her sister.

“Oh, Jo. Don’t cry.” 

Bessie stood up and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. Joey buried her face in her sister’s soft shoulder, closing her eyes as the tears fell. She cried for the future she’d once dreamed of, for the future she might someday have, and the courage she’d need to pursue it.

“Better?” Bessie asked when they broke apart a few minutes later.

Joey nodded. Her eyes were red, her throat hurt and she could feel a headache coming on, but weirdly, she did feel a little better. Crying _was_ cathartic, after all. 

“I think so.”

“Good.” Bessie reached over and lifted a section of Joey’s long tresses, wrinkling her nose. “And I hate to break it to you, sis, but you might need to go wash baby vomit out of your hair.”

“Oh, gross!”

“Hey, _you_ hugged _me_!” Bessie laughed as Joey fled the room. Softly, to herself, she repeated the words, unable to keep the smile from her face. “You hugged me.”


	10. Adventures in Babysitting

**_My mind forgets to remind me_ ** **_  
_** **_You’re a bad idea_ **

* * *

She tried to stay away from him. She went to the farmer’s market with Bessie, made sure her morning run took her in the opposite direction from anywhere she thought he might be, and refused, point blank, to go to the Ice House and pick up food, despite her sister’s pleas. 

“But he said it would be free. Who are you to turn down a free meal?” Bessie reached over and felt Joey’s forehead. “Are you coming down with something? Don’t transmit your illness to my child.”

Joey batted her hand away. “You want him to develop a strong immune system, don’t you? And there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Well I know for a _fact_ that’s not true. There are plenty of things wrong with you,” Bessie teased. “Oh, wait. I know what this is. You’re lovesick. Really, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

Joey scowled at her. “Do you want to drink this iced tea, or wear it?” 

“All right, all right.” 

Bessie led the way out of the house and into the tiny backyard, where they settled into Adirondack chairs under a large oak tree. Alexander was sleeping in a sling across Bessie’s chest, and she lowered herself carefully into the chair to avoid waking him. Joey held her breath until her sister was settled, but no cries emanated from the baby. 

“Nicely done.”

“Thanks.” 

Joey stretched her legs out in front of her in the lawn chair, and sipped her sweet tea. 

“It’s really beautiful here.”

“I know.” Bessie shot her a look. “Sure I can’t convince you to stay?”

“Nope.”

“Not even if I ask nicely?”

“Nope. I have a job in Boston, an apartment, a life.” 

“Doesn’t it worry you that you listed those things in _that_ order?” Bessie replied. “And you forgot one word off the end of that list. Boyfriend.” Joey said nothing. Bessie’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. You’re going to break up with him!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Your silence speaks volumes. Are you really going to do it?” 

“Calm down, you’ll wake the baby.”

“As I should. He needs to be a part of this celebration,” Bessie said, but she did lower her voice. 

“Well, don’t celebrate too soon. I haven’t made a decision yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because! Look, I have feelings for Pacey, okay? That much is obvious to everyone, it would seem.” Bessie nodded along encouragingly. “But I’ve been with David for four years. Don’t I owe it to him to at least give him a chance?”

“You don’t think four years was long enough? C’mon, Joey. If he was the right guy, you’d never have fallen for someone else.”

“But…” She closed her eyes, trying to think. “You know how you said the other day that you’d never seen me this happy? Like you felt as if you had your sister back?” Her throat closed up with emotion around the words, and it was an effort to choke them out. “I just don’t know if that’s even real.”

“Okay, you’ve lost me.”

Joey sighed. “I don’t feel like I’m really that person. It’s like, I can pretend to be her when I’m here, but is that who I truly am? And if it is, then how come I only just met her?”

Bessie said nothing until Joey opened her eyes. “Do you remember when you first went to Yale, and I came to visit you on campus?”

“Why are you changing the subject?”

“I’m not. Do you remember it?” She waited for Joey to nod before continuing. “I went to see my amazing baby sister at this Ivy League institution, my sister who’d worked so hard and achieved so much, and who’d finally had her wildest dreams come true. And what were you doing when I got there? Sitting in your dorm room, crying.” 

“I was homesick,” Joey muttered. “I got over it.”

“I remember. I was there. But do you remember what you told me that day?” Joey shook her head. “You kept asking me if you’d made a colossal mistake. I couldn’t understand what you meant - you’d worked your whole life for this - but you said you thought you’d feel happy when you got there, and you didn’t. And that you were tired of faking it, just like you’d been faking it all through high school, and that you didn’t want to pretend anymore. That you were tired of trying to be someone that you weren’t.”

Joey remembered those first weeks so clearly - the fear, the constant anxiety, the overpowering sense of not fitting in. The overwhelming desire to say _fuck it_ and walk away, but knowing that she couldn’t bring herself to do that after working so damn hard. She’d suffered in silence until she’d met Maggie, and things had gotten better after that, and those imposter feelings had slowly faded away. 

Or so she’d thought.

“What are you trying to say, Bessie?”

“That maybe all the things you want to be, you already are. You just haven’t tapped into that side of yourself until now, because you haven’t let her out to play.”

“Let who out?”

“Other Joey.”

Joey pulled a face. “Who is _Other Joey_?”

“She’s a fun loving girl who knows how to cut loose and enjoy herself. Who went out that weekend with her sister to the aquarium, and the zoo, before stuffing herself with popcorn at the movie theatre and tearing strips off whatever terrible rom-com it was that I dragged you along to.” 

Joey rolled her eyes. “The Britney Spears one.”

“I wouldn’t have made you go to a Britney Spears movie.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what it was.”

Bessie shook her head. “There’s no way. I would’ve had to drag you into the cinema, kicking and screaming.”

“Don’t underestimate my fragile emotional state at that moment in my life,” Joey countered. “I was easily manipulated. And I have seen that movie, at the cinema no less, and since I can’t imagine anyone _else_ in my life who would’ve been sick enough to make me watch it--”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter what the movie was,” Bessie said. “The point is, we had a good time that weekend. And when I left, you gave me a hug and you told me that you loved me, and you thanked me for coming to see you.”

“And you never came back.”

Bessie startled. “What?”

“You never came back. You moved up to Vermont and joined some kind of commune, occasionally sending me hand-written letters but never responding to my emails.”

“It was an organic farm, not a commune,” Bessie said. “And I was living in a caravan. I didn’t have internet access.” 

“That’s pretty much my point.”

Bessie frowned. “Are you mad at me for that? I offered for you to come and stay.”

“I couldn’t leave. I was studying.”

“I guess we both kinda screwed up,” Bessie admitted. “Because when I finally did see you again, months later, you were like a different person. You’d always been studious and serious, but you’d never been snobbish before. You were dating some preppy guy--”

“Brad wasn’t preppy--”

“--and you looked down your nose at me and everything I had. And I felt inadequate. I felt like you didn’t need me anymore.”

“Bessie, I always needed you.”

“You’d grown up, and grown into yourself, and you were suddenly this gorgeous, well-put-together, self-assured young woman, and I felt like the weird, frumpy older sister.”

“I was never self-assured. I was just better at faking it,” Joey said. “I can’t believe you’re only just telling me this. I was so scared of you, because I knew you were judging me, and I knew you didn’t like who I’d become, but I did it to fit in, and I was afraid that if I let that facade slip, even for a second, I’d forget how to be that confident, put-together girl and then everyone at Yale would realise that I’d been faking it all along.”

“So you hid.”

“Even from myself.”

“Until Pacey.”

Joey sighed. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Too bad, because you have to. You’re leaving tomorrow, Joey. Don’t you think you should go and say goodbye to him? You at least owe him that.”

“I will. I promised him that I would. But not tonight. I’ll go in the morning.”

“When it’s too late for him to change your mind?” Bessie asked. “Or because you’re worried about what would happen if you spend another night with him?”

“For the hundredth time, nothing happened the other night.”

“I believe you. That snoring of yours is a real mood killer. I’m pretty sure that was what woke Alexander at three a.m.” She grinned at her sister’s malevolent look. “I could hear you from down the hall. I have no idea how you didn’t deafen the boy.”

“Can you stop?”

“On one condition.” She watched Joey’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “That you go to the Ice House and talk to him right now.”

Her stubborn expression settled firmly onto her face. “And leave this sisterly bonding moment? Not likely.”

“Fine. I give up.” Bessie leaned back in her chair. “I can tell I’m going to have to resort to Plan B.”

“Which is?”

“Which is not going to work if you know about it, so I am most definitely not sharing it with you,” she smirked, taking a long swig of her tea before pulling a face. “How much sugar did you put in this?”

“Enough.” 

“Too much.” Bessie handed the glass to Joey, who accepted it willingly. “I don’t know how someone as skinny as you can consume that much sugar without rotting her teeth.”

“I’m an excellent flosser.”

“Weird brag, but okay. Tell you what, then. Since you’re only here for one more night, I’m going to take total and complete advantage of you, and demand that you babysit Alexander while Bodie takes me out on the town.”

Joey nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Bessie pushed herself to her feet. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a phone call to make.”

That evening, Joey was stretched out on the couch with her feet up, trying to read a book without dozing off, when a knock came at the door. Frowning, she sat up as Alexander started to whimper in the other room. Cursing the stupidity of people who would come calling to a house with a newborn after 8pm, Joey marched to the front door, ready to verbally eviscerate whoever was on the other side. 

“What do you wa--Oh. It’s you.”

“There it is. The welcome every man dreams of,” Pacey said with a barely suppressed smile. She was so cute when she was angry. “Don’t worry. I come in peace.”

Joey glared at him, one hand on her hip, the other still holding the door open. “Bessie put you up to this, didn’t she?”

“She may have had something to do with it,” he admitted as Alexander’s cries grew louder. “I did bring pizza and movies, but I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me here--”

“It’s fine. Come on in.” She reached out and plucked the pizza box and plastic bag from his hands, then nudged the door shut behind him with her foot, trying really hard not to be happy to see him. Damn Bessie and her stupid tricks. And damn her own stupidity in not seeing it coming a mile away. “But since you’re the one who woke the baby, you can go and get him to stop crying.”

“Deal.” 

Joey went into the living room, setting the food down on the coffee table and giving the room a cursory tidy - not that Pacey would care, but she did. Alexander’s cries stopped as she peered curiously into the bag of DVDs and let out a soft chuckle. 

“Something funny, Josephine?”

She turned to see him enter the room. “How’d you get him to stop crying?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he replied. 

“Magician, huh?”

“Just call me the great Pacey-dini.” He flourished his hands at her, wincing as the movement pulled at his stitches. “One-handed Pacey-dini,” he corrected himself. “You want to see a card trick?”

“About as badly as I want to watch _The Shawshank Redemption_ ,” she said, lifting the DVD off the top of the stack. “Which is to say, not remotely.”

“Be nice. It’s my favourite movie, you know.” He sat down on the couch next to her and toed off his shoes.

“Huh, weird! Mine, too,” she teased. 

He grinned. “I didn’t know what to bring, so I grabbed a selection. But we can do something else, if you want. I am more than willing to kick your ass at Monopoly.”

“I was thinking Scrabble.”

“No fair, Potter. I was pretty much a functional illiterate until the ninth grade, and my spelling is still--” 

“Atrocious?” she suggested, remembering the menu at the Ice House with its nearly illegible handwriting and terrible spelling. 

“Creative.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” She pulled the stack of DVDs out of the bag and started to sift through them. “ _The English Patient?_ ” she asked dubiously. “Just how boring do you think I am?”

“In case we can’t get the baby to sleep. It’s a proven and time-honoured technique to lull even the most obstinate crier into a comatose state.” 

“If you say so.” Joey frowned at the next movie. “ _Jerry Maguire_. Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, that movie’s a classic.”

“I don’t like Tom Cruise. He’s too smarmy.” She flipped to the next DVD and raised her eyebrows. _“The Graduate_?” 

“That one was kind of a joke. You know, because of--”

“Your history?” she asked seriously. “Weird sense of humour you’ve got there, Pace.”

“Sometimes I go too far,” he admitted as she tossed the DVD onto the table with a clatter. “Hey, be careful. I borrowed that from Dougie’s private collection, and--”

“Stole,” she corrected him.

Pacey looked offended. “Borrowed.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Does he know you have it?”

“No.”

“Stole,” she repeated. “Go on.”

He grinned, and she smiled back at him. God, he was obsessed with this woman. “ _Liberated_ from Dougie’s private collection,” he continued, “and if there’s so much as a scratch on the corner of the case, he’ll tear my head off.”

“Is it a familial thing, this penchant for older women?” she asked curiously. 

“Women in general aren’t really Dougie’s thing,” Pacey replied. “Not that he’d ever admit it.” As he spoke, he reached into the stack and slid another DVD out from the middle. “Let’s pretend you didn’t see that one, either.” 

Pacey stuffed the DVD down the side of the couch cushions next to him as Joey leaned over and reached for it. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” she protested.

Pacey held up empty hands. “Gone.”

“What was it?”

“Nothing. You imagined it. Hey, look. I brought _Dumbo!_ ”

“You’re the dumbo.” She reached across him again, trying to get to the DVD. Pacey blocked her with his body, and she frowned. “Get out of my way, Pacey.”

“Nope. It’s my magic trick. Disappearing DVD.” He put his hands on her sides, holding her away from him. She tried to twist free of his grip, and he tightened it, then pressed his fingers into her sides. Joey gasped, and started to squirm. 

“Pacey!” 

“Are you ticklish?” he grinned. He loved how she felt when he held her like this, how much of her slim waist his hands could span. He could feel the jut of her hip bones at the top of her low-rise jeans, and he slid one hand under her shirt and tickled the bare skin along her spine.

“No! Pacey, stop it!” she squealed, but she was laughing as he pushed her back against the couch cushions. “Agh! Cut it out!”

The sound of a crying baby made them both pause. “Now look what you’ve done!” he said, shaking his head.

“What _I’ve_ done? Please. This was entirely your fault.”

“I was not the one squealing at a pitch only dogs and tiny babies can hear.” He pressed his thumbs in against her sides, and she squirmed again. 

“Stop! You’re a menace, you know that?”

“Okay, I admit it.”

“As you should. And now, as this _was_ decidedly your fault, you get to go and check on the baby.”

“Nice try, princess. But I did that last time, and besides, you’re the babysitter. I’m just here as entertainment.”

Joey snorted. “If that’s the case, I want my money back.” She moved to stand up, and he realised his hands were still on her hips. He let them drop as she got to her feet. “And when I get back, you’re going to tell me what that DVD was.”

“Nope.”

“Pacey.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Is it porn?”

He barked out a laugh. “What? No!” 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m not bringing porn into your house, Joey. I’m not _that_ uncouth.”

“Because if you leave an inappropriate DVD in the couch and my sister finds it, there is going to be hell to pay.”

“Well, now that you say that I’m wishing that it _was_ porn. But it’s not.” She waited, and he shook his head. “What, are you going to let that baby scream all night?”

Joey wrinkled her nose at him, then turned and left the room. Once he was sure she’d gone, Pacey pulled the DVD copy of _How to Marry a Millionaire_ out of the cushions and looked at it. What had seemed funny to him at the time, as he’d been rummaging through the stack of DVDs at Doug’s place, no longer felt like a good joke. And he certainly didn’t _want_ Joey to go and marry her boyfriend, who probably was a millionaire, or to think that he thought she was a gold digger...

“You pick a movie yet?”

Pacey shoved the DVD back down the side of the couch as Joey re-entered the room carrying the now quiet baby. 

“Uh, nope. Your choice.”

She sat down, settling Alexander in her arms, and the baby blinked up at him with his large brown eyes. Pacey had always liked kids, but he’d never really been that excited about babies. Sure, he’d held his nieces and nephews, had fed them and burped them and even changed a diaper or two under extreme duress, but it wasn’t until they’d become toddlers, with thoughts and opinions of their own, that being around them hadn’t felt like a chore. 

Seeing Joey with a baby had a completely different effect on him. He stared at the tiny human, suddenly fascinated by his soft baby hair, his long eyelashes, the tiny perfection of the hands he was waving around. Pacey reached out, and Alexander grabbed hold of his finger. Pacey smiled, and Alexander stared back at him, eyes wide. Then his tiny mouth curved into a smile, and Pacey’s heart fluttered. 

“He’s smiling at me!”

“He is.” Joey beamed down at the baby, then looked at Pacey. “You know, it probably means he has gas.”

“It does no--” He broke off at the sound of Alexander passing wind before the smell hit them both. “Okay, maybe it does.”

Joey couldn’t help laughing. She peeked down the back of the baby’s diaper, and pulled a face. “And on that note, we’ll be right back.”

“You want some help?” Pacey offered. 

Joey paused. “To change his diaper?” she asked, then shook her head. “Is this part of your Man of the Year campaign? Because you’re not normal, Pacey. You do know that, right?” 

“Believe me, I know. I’ve been told that since first grade.”

A flicker of pity crossed her face. “Then believe _me_ when I say that I meant that in the best possible way.”

She smiled at him again, and he leaned his head back against the couch cushions and gazed at her as she left the room. She was, hands down, the most beautiful thing in his orbit. Every day, she somehow became more attractive to him, whether it was the way she looked, or what she said, or how she smelled, or felt on those rare occasions when he got his hands on her…

Pacey closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. _Make the most of tonight, because she’s leaving tomorrow_ , he reminded himself. _And you might never see her again._

He hoped that wasn’t true. As long as Bessie stayed in Capeside, Joey would be back to visit her - he felt certain of that. But he didn’t know what was going to happen next. Would she go back to Boston and realise that she did love her boyfriend, after all? Or remember how much she loved city living, and how small and boring Capeside was? He knew she had a busy, high powered job. Would she ever consider leaving that, and the undoubtedly large pay check that it earned her? 

Pacey made himself busy, re-stacking the DVDs, opening the windows to air out the room, grabbing plates from the kitchen and a stack of napkins for their pizza-greased hands. He’d just given up waiting and bitten into his first slice when Joey came back into the room, Alexander now dressed in a clean yellow onesie and smelling of baby powder. 

Pacey sniffed the air. “That smells better.”

“Believe me when I say that nothing, and I mean _nothing_ , could possibly smell worse than what I just encountered,” Joey said. “Next time I babysit, I’m buying disposable nappies. Environment be damned.”

She sat back down on the couch next to him, the baby cradled in her arms, and reached for a slice herself. “What are our other movie options?”

“Oh. Uh, well. I didn’t have a copy of your favourite,” he said. “But I do have this classic.” With a flourish, he revealed _E.T._ _\- The Extra Terrestrial._

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, Jo. You have to face your fears. It’s good for you.” 

“No way.”

“This movie was my childhood. I must’ve seen it a hundred times.”

“Then you have no need to watch it again,” she replied. “Next.”

“Fine.” He tossed it onto the coffee table. “Your loss.”

“It’s no loss whatsoever. That movie is horrifying. And what happened to being careful with the DVDs?”

“Doug’s DVDs. That particular DVD belongs to Dawson.”

“And you don’t care if you break his stuff?”

“Well, he’s used to it. Besides, he’s probably got a gold-plated copy personally signed by Spielberg at this point. He’ll never notice.”

Joey leaned back against the couch cushions, and Alexander shifted against her, his mouth open wide as he nuzzled into her breast. Joey looked down at him, and blushed. 

“Hmm. I think he might be hungry.”

“I think he’s a man after my own heart,” Pacey said before he could stop himself. 

“Pacey. Gross.” She punched his shoulder, and he shot her a bashful grin. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“In front of a baby, no less.” 

“What? He gets it.” 

She rolled her eyes and shifted Alexander onto her shoulder. He started to cry in protest. “Come on, Alex. What’s wrong?”

“Maybe he’s hungry.”

“Bessie fed him right before she left, a little over an hour ago.”

“He’s a growing boy. I know I had days where I couldn’t go an hour without eating.”

“Why do I find that so very easy to imagine?” she asked as he bit into his second slice of pizza. “Well, I could try heating him some milk, see if that shuts him up.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Tossing his slice down, Pacey held his arms out. “Hand him over.” At her hesitation, he looked surprised. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“I trust you,” she said softly, carefully lifting Alexander into his arms. 

Pacey’s hands cradled the child, so strong and gentle at the same time, and Joey stood up quickly as a hot flush suffused her entire body at the sight. Having Pacey in the house with her was torture enough for her raging hormones. Seeing him hold her baby nephew as if he was the most precious thing in the world? If Joey had been a heroine in some nineteenth century romance novel, she might have actually been reaching for her smelling salts. 

“I’m going to---I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll be right here,” Pacey replied, and she left the room. 

He looked down at the baby in the crook of his arm, and stroked his cheek with a fingertip, looking for traces of Joey. Did they have the same shaped eyes? Had Alexander inherited the stubborn Potter jaw? He told himself he was probably imagining it, until Alexander’s face creased into a frown and he chuckled. _There you are._

Almost an hour later, Alexander had been fed, burped, bathed and was back in his crib. The pizza had been consumed, and Joey came back into the room and flopped down on the couch next to Pacey, kicking her feet up onto the table with a sigh of relief. 

“Remind me never to have children.”

“No?” Pacey offered her a handful from the bowl of microwave popcorn he’d just prepared. 

“Nope. Too noisy, too expensive, and you never get rid of them. They plague you your entire life.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth and spoke around it. “No thank you.”

“But they’re so cute,” Pacey argued. “You can’t tell me you don’t love cuddling your little nephew.”

“Sure,” she shrugged, finishing her mouthful. “And most of the time, when he does something gross or won’t stop crying, Bessie and Bodie are here to hand him over to, which suits me perfectly. All play, no work, suits me down to the ground.”

“Why do I find that so very hard to believe?”

Joey lifted her eyebrows. “You saying you don’t believe me?”

“I’m saying that I think you’re selling yourself short, that’s all. But you’re right. Kids can be a real drag. Just ask my parents.”

She put her hand on his knee. “You’ll be a great dad, someday.”

His answering scoff was cut short as a piece of popcorn got caught in his throat. His eyes watered, and he started to cough. Joey thumped him on the back, and he managed to swallow past the offending kernel. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.” He wiped at his streaming eyes with the back of his hand, embarrassed but appreciative of her attention. “You just saved my life.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re over-selling it a bit there.” She reached for another handful of popcorn. 

“Careful, now.”

Joey tossed a piece of popcorn into the air and caught it in her mouth, then shot him a triumphant grin. “So, what movie are we watching?”

“That’s entirely up to you. I vote _E.T.,_ but--”

“ _Dumbo_ it is.”

They made it almost to the end of the movie before Alexander started crying again. 

“Oh, thank god.” Joey leapt to her feet as if she’d been electrocuted. “I’ll go see if he’s okay.”

“Are you really that scared of a cartoon?”

“Pacey. This movie is traumatising. I don’t know how you can even watch it, let alone enjoy it.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, reaching for the remote control and hitting pause. “This is a kids’ movie, Jo.”

“A kids’ movie that’s already made me cry _and_ hide my face behind a pillow at least twice,” she retorted. “And let’s not even talk about the _deeply_ racist parts.”

“Okay, so some elements don’t hold up,” he admitted. “But I still like it, and you said you’d watch it with me, so I’m holding you to your end of the deal.”

“Do whatever you want. I’m going to check on the baby.”

He sat there for a full five minutes, listening to Alexander’s wailing, before he got up and went to find her. Joey was pacing around Alexander’s room, more muttering than singing a lullaby under her breath.

“Everything okay in here?”

“Sorry. I couldn’t get him to stop crying, so I started rocking him and talking to him, and then I ran out of things to say, so I started singing, but I don’t think that’s helping either--”

“Why didn’t you bring him into the living room?”

“What, so he can cry in your ear, too?” She shook her head, looking stressed. “If you want to go home, I understand. You’re under no obligation to be here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He walked over to her, but Joey turned her back so he was faced with the squalling baby. “I said I’d be here, so I am.”

“I don’t know what he wants,” Joey complained. “He can’t be hungry again, surely. His diaper’s clean, and I’ve tried to burp him, but nothing’s coming out--”

“Maybe he’s bored.”

“He’s a week old, Pacey. He’s not bored.”

“How do you know?” 

“What do you suggest, we crack out the Monopoly board?” she snapped.

He shrugged. “It’s never too early to teach him how to live in a capitalistic society.”

“Hey, what do you think Bessie meant the other night when she mentioned her impending financial doom?” Joey asked, rubbing Alexander’s back as she tried to get him to settle. It wasn’t something she really wanted to talk about, but she’d discuss anything to take her mind off the crying that seemed to be searing itself into her skull. “Do you think she’s having money problems?”

“Have you asked her?”

“Of course not. She’d tear my head off.”

Pacey grinned. “Yeah, she would, wouldn’t she?” He reached out and stroked Alexander’s damp cheek. “I don’t know. But that’s Bessie’s problem, not yours.” 

“Yeah, I suppose so.” 

She turned back to face him, and he saw the worry in her eyes. Pacey couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself from going to her any more than he could stop himself from breathing. 

“Hey, c’mere.” 

He put his arm around her, and she let herself be drawn into his embrace. Pacey rested his cheek on her head as her nephew’s wailing slowly started to ease. 

Alexander did finally stop crying, but any attempts to put the baby back in his crib resulted in a return to his lusty wailing. Eventually, Joey decided to take him back into the living room with them and hold him while they finished the movie. Alexander seemed happy to be with them, and lay awake in her arms, staring up at Joey with his enormous dark eyes. 

When the DVD finished, Pacey turned it off, leaving the TV with a bright blue screen. 

“So I heard a rumour that this is your last night in Capeside.” 

She turned her head and looked at him. “Yeah. Duty calls, I guess. I’ve been here three weeks already, and I have to go back to the real world sometime.” 

Joey shifted around on the couch, holding Alexander carefully as she untucked her legs from beneath her and stretched them out between them. 

“You promised me you’d say goodbye, Jo.”

She blushed. “I know. I was going to. In the morning.”

“I have to go to Hartford tomorrow, to see Gretchen. I’m leaving at six.”

“Oh.”

“I’d put it off, but it’s her birthday. I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me, but…”

“I wish I could. I’d like to meet your sister.”

“And she’d love to meet you.”

Joey blanched. “You’ve told her about me?” 

“Not yet. But I will.”

She bit her lower lip. “What’ll you say?”

“Just that I met a woman recently that I’m crazy about, and that I’m really hoping she feels the same way about me.”

Joey looked down at Alexander, sleeping in her arms. “I think he’s asleep.” 

Pacey tried to hide his hurt at her change of subject. “Think he’ll let you put him back to bed?”

“I can but try.”

She stood up carefully, trying not to wake him. The baby slumbered on, and Pacey walked with her to the bedroom, watching as she carefully laid her nephew down in his crib. Alexander moved his mouth and whimpered, but didn’t wake up.

They tiptoed out of the room, pulling the door almost closed behind them. 

“Phew.” She ran her hand through her hair as she led the way back to the living room. “Let’s hope he stays that way for a while.”

“Let’s hope.” Pacey stood awkwardly as she sat back down on the couch. “Do you want me to leave?” 

The startled look on her face instantly made him feel better. “I-- Do you want to go?”

“No.” 

“Because if you do, I don’t mind. I mean, this isn’t exactly the most scintillating evening activity. I’m sure you’ve got a thousand other things you’d rather be doing.”

“There’s not one single thing on the planet I’d rather be doing,” he said honestly. “Well, maybe one or two things. But they all involve you, so…”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was grinning. “Don’t make me kick you out for inappropriate behaviour.”

“Never.”

Joey patted the couch next to her, and he sat back down. “Besides, you can’t leave now. It’s your turn to pick the movie.”

“You sure about that?”

“Well, it’s only fair.”

“Okay. But just remember, this was your idea.” 

She closed her eyes. “It’s gonna be _E.T._ , isn’t it?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I’d rather watch _The English Patient._ ”

“I’d rather slice my other hand open than sit through that. Although if Alexander wakes up again, it’s definitely an option.”

“If he wakes up again, I’m just going to let him cry until Bessie gets home.”

“You monster,” he teased, knowing she was kidding. He tilted his hand, checking his watch. “How late is she planning to be?”

“They discussed going to a movie after dinner, so who knows? Could be midnight.”

“They’re really milking this free babysitting option for all that it’s worth, huh?”

“Well, Bessie doesn’t know that many people here yet. Her babysitting options are limited.”

“She knows she can call me, right?”

Joey smiled, surprised. “You’d do that?”

“Sure. What else am I doing on a Friday night?”

“You must have _some_ kind of social life. An eligible bachelor like you should be reeling in the ladies.”

“I’m not that eligible,” he said with a shrug. “Everyone around here knows me, and knows my reputation. The smart girls steer clear, and the dumb girls just aren’t that interesting.” 

“Why, because they can’t keep up with your sparkling wit?”

“Something like that.”

“How’s that going to make Bessie look then, entrusting her child to someone with your terrible reputation?” she teased. “Hey, don’t look so glum. I’m kidding. You’re great with Alex, and she knows it. I’m sure she’d love to have you look after him.”

He shrugged. “Offer’s there, anyway.” He leaned his head back against the couch and looked up at the fly-spotted ceiling.

“Where’s all this melancholy coming from?” she asked him, sitting sideways on the couch and tucking one leg underneath her. 

Pacey shrugged. “I guess it’s just starting to sink in, that’s all.”

“What’s that?”

“That you’re leaving.” He turned his head and made himself look at her. “I know we only just met, but--”

“It feels like we’ve known each other forever?” She rested her head on her arm, slung across the back of the couch. “I know what you mean. And like I said before, I wish we had. I could’ve used you in my life.”

“And I would definitely have been better off with you in mine,” he agreed. “You’d make me study and teach me how to work hard and be responsible.”

She laughed. “And you’d make me take risks and teach me how to be wild and spontaneous.”

“You don't know how to be spontaneous?”

“You heard my sister. I’ve never done anything spontaneous in my entire life.”

“I know that’s not true. You came sailing with me, when I know you hadn’t planned on it,” he reminded her. 

She shrugged one shoulder. “What can I say? You’re a bad influence on me.”

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe I’m exactly what you need.”

“Now you sound like Bessie.”

Pacey grinned. “She’s a wise woman, your sister.” 

He shifted closer to her, staring into her eyes. He wanted to kiss her, almost more than he could stand. Her lips looked so soft, so inviting. He raised his eyes to realise she was staring at his mouth, and as she moistened her lips with her tongue, Pacey felt his groin ache with desire. 

He held still, knowing he couldn’t make the first move. She had a boyfriend, and he didn’t want to disturb the equilibrium of their friendship by pushing her too hard. But although he was certain that he wasn’t the one who moved, moments later, her mouth was closer to his, much closer, close enough that he could feel her breath on his face, and he knew that if he shifted forward just an inch, his lips would find hers. Pacey had a fair amount of self-control, but he wasn’t a saint. His entire body was aching to touch her, and one part of his body in particular was more than ready. He wanted to throw himself across her, to feel her body underneath his, her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he explored every tiny inch of her skin. She let out a soft sigh, and his restraint broke. Pacey closed the gap, his mouth brushing against hers - just as headlights lit up the window outside, and they heard the sound of car tyres crunching across gravel. 

Joey pulled back from him, her eyes wide. “Bessie’s home.”


	11. Nightswimming

**_Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down_ ** **_  
_** **_Gimme something that'll haunt me when you're not around_ **

* * *

Joey met Bessie at the door. “You’re home early.”

Bessie sighed as she came inside, kicking off her flats. “We got through the first thirty minutes of that Scream movie at the Rialto, then my boobs started to hurt so badly I couldn’t concentrate. Where’s that breast pump?”

“I’m on it,” Bodie assured her, squeezing past her in the narrow hallway and heading for the kitchen. 

“And how’s my baby?”

“Fine. Sleeping.” Joey raised her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, and Bessie nodded. Joey narrowed her eyes as she shut the door behind her sister, then put her arm out to stop her.

“Not so fast, Bessie. You set me up.”

Bessie blinked innocently. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Couldn’t be.”

Joey rolled her eyes. “What are you, three years old?”

“So did it work?” Bessie asked, her eyes dancing. “Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell. He brought pizza and movies, we watched _Dumbo_.” She smiled at the confusion on Bessie’s face. “His favourite film. Seems he’s a man of sophisticated tastes.”

“Uh huh. You used to hate that movie.”

“I’m learning to face my fears.”

“So you watched _Dumbo_...then what?”

Joey shrugged. "That's it.”

“Are you serious? I went to all that effort and nothing happened?”

Joey leaned in, her voice pitched low. “Well it would have, if you’d stayed for the whole movie.”

Bessie looked down at her swollen breasts with a sigh. “You can blame these two for that,” she said. “Why did nobody ever tell me how uncomfortable this was going to be?”

“Now you know how cows feel.” 

Joey followed her sister into the living room, where Pacey was still sitting on the couch. He stood up when Bessie came in, and Joey’s stomach swooped all over again at the sight of him. She’d thought he was attractive the first time they’d met, but now with his shorter hair, faded jeans and black tee-shirt that fitted in all the right places, she couldn’t help thinking that her first impression of him had been wrong. Brad Pitt had nothing on Pacey Witter. 

“Evening, Bessie.”

“Hi, Pacey. Hope my sister hasn’t been driving you too crazy tonight.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been keeping her in line.” He grinned at Joey’s offended expression. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was nice. I’m ready for my bed, though.” She sat down at the kitchen table and started unbuttoning her dress as Bodie set the breast pump down in front of her. 

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Pacey said with a grin. 

Joey rolled her eyes and helped him to pack up the DVDs, dismissing his offer to leave _E.T._ for her to watch later, then walked him to the door. She slid her feet into her flip flops and followed him outside. Moths swarmed around the round porch light, battering themselves against it and flying into the side of Pacey’s head. He swatted at them absently as she shut the door behind them.

“Are you coming home with me?” he asked hopefully. 

“No. I’m walking you to your car.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“I could stand and wave from here,” she offered, digging her heels in.

Pacey reached out and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her forward. “No, no. Walk with me. Please.”

She acquiesced, following him down the porch steps and onto the lawn. Pacey lifted his arm, as if he was going to twirl her again, but this time he raised his arm over her head, wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled her in against his side. Joey leaned back into him, unable to keep the smile from her face as the butterflies swooped and fluttered inside her stomach. 

All too soon, they’d reached his Jeep. Pacey reluctantly let go of her hand, and they broke apart. 

“Well, it’s been nice knowing you, Potter.”

“This isn’t goodbye, Pacey.”

“It’s just see you later?”

“Exactly.” 

He frowned, looking back at Bessie’s house. “Hey, are you tired?”

“Not particularly. Why?”

“I’m not quite ready for this evening to end. So in honor of the fact that it’s your last night in Capeside, I think we should commemorate it by doing something wild and spontaneous.”

Joey raised her eyebrows skeptically. “What are we, fifteen?”

“Well, as you’ve pointed out already, we didn’t know each other when we were fifteen. Unfortunately for me.” He smirked, and she rolled her eyes. “So I say we make up for lost time.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” she asked. “Steal a bottle of vodka and get drunk down by the creek?”

“No, thank you. I don’t plan on following Abby Morgan’s lead.” He saw the confusion on her face. “A girl I went to school with. She got wasted and fell off a dock, and...”

“She drowned?” Joey asked, horrified.

“Yeah.” 

“Oh my god. Were you there?”

“No.” But that was the night that had ended Jen’s time in Capeside. Her grandmother had freaked out over how close Jen had come to sharing her friend’s fate, and had sent her back to New York to be her parents’ responsibility. He hadn’t seen her since. 

“Sounds traumatic.”

“Which is why I think we definitely cross that one off the bucket list.” 

“Seems like a solid plan.”

“But we have to do _something_ ,” he said restlessly. 

“Well, what did you used to do for fun around here when you were fifteen?” She caught his eye and shook her head. “Aside from your English teacher.”

“I could take you up to the ruins,” he suggested. “Show you around.”

“Never, ever have I wanted to do something less than visit the location where you were raped as a child.” 

Pacey frowned. “It wasn’t like that, Joey. We were both consenting--”

“Adults?” She cut him off, the anger dripping from her voice. “No, Pacey. She was an adult. You were a child.”

“I didn’t feel like a child.” 

“That’s beside the point.” 

“I came onto her,” he said, not sure why he was belabouring this. “I pursued _her_. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s--” 

“Hers. Pacey, can’t you see it? Even now, looking back, you don’t realise how fucked up that was?” 

“You didn’t know her.”

Joey scoffed. “Lucky for her. If she ever comes near you again, I’ll kill her.” 

Pacey suppressed his urge to laugh. He loved how fired up she was on his behalf, even if he didn’t think he deserved it. He was a flood of conflicting feelings, with her flashing eyes right at the centre of it all. 

“It was ten years ago. It’s all water under the bridge, now.”

“Ten years ago,” she repeated. “Think about that for a moment, Pace. Because you’re what, twenty-five now, right?” Off his nod, she continued. “So if a fifteen-year-old girl - and let’s say she’s an employee of yours, because we can’t forget to factor that gross imbalance of power into the equation - comes up and starts hitting on you. Would you have sex with her?”

The thought of it horrified him. It was bad enough fending off Amber’s advances - the idea of flirting with a high school sophomore was cringe-inducing. 

“No. Of course not.”

“No? But she wants you, Pacey. _She’s_ the one coming onto _you_.”

His stomach twisted into knots, and he shook his head. “Okay, fine. I get it.”

“Do you? Because _you’re_ only twenty-five - so picture yourself in _another_ ten years’ time. You’re thirty-five now, and here comes that fifteen-year-old girl again, fluttering her eyelashes and just _begging_ you to sleep with her.”

He winced, feeling sick. “You’ve made your point, Jo.” 

She refused to stop. “She probably hit puberty a year ago, maybe two. Had her first period, got her first bra. Held hands with a boy for the first time just a few weeks before she--” 

“Had a few too many drinks and let him take things too far?” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but her jabs had landed hard, and he’d been compelled to return the favour. Joey’s eyes widened, and he reached for her. “I’m sorry.” She flinched away from his outstretched hand. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes downcast. “We all say and do things that we regret, Pacey.” She looked up at him again, and he hated seeing the hurt on her face, and knowing he’d put it there. “And I’m sorry if I’m picking at old wounds here, but I’m also really sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry that there was nobody around to take care of you.” She reached out and took his hand. He moved closer to her, relieved that she was letting him. “I wish I’d been here when it all went down.”

He pulled a face, hating the thought. “You’d probably have been disgusted with me.”

Joey scrunched her nose as she thought about it. “Probably. Teenage Joey wasn’t the most open minded person on the planet.” 

“No?” he asked. “You shock me.”

She giggled. “I’d like to think that I would’ve believed you, though. And that I’d have helped you make the school board or whoever run that woman out of town, never to return.”

“She did, actually,” he muttered. 

Joey pulled back from him in surprise. “Are you kidding? She had the audacity to come back? _Please_ tell me she didn’t try anything with you again.” He just looked at her, and Joey swore under her breath, then reached her hand around the back of Pacey’s neck and slowly drew him in toward her. “You poor boy.” She nestled his head against the curve of her neck, and her fingers slid into his hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close. 

Pacey wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned into him. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and he breathed her in, inhaling the warm spicy scent of her skin, barely able to resist the temptation to press his mouth to the bare skin of her neck, to trace kisses up to her earlobe and flick his tongue into the soft hollow behind it. His feelings about Tamara were still complicated, but he knew that Joey was right. Deep down, he knew that what Tamara had done was wrong, had always known, but he’d also been convinced that it was his fault. Because he’d wanted her, and he’d pursued her, and he’d refused to take no for an answer. 

But Joey saw it differently, and through her eyes, he was able to recall that lost boy just seeking comfort and acceptance, desperately searching for something resembling love. The misbegotten kid who’d acted out in any way he could in order to get people’s attention, and who had thrown himself headfirst into the pursuit of a woman he could never have. 

_Some things never change_ , he thought to himself as Joey shifted her weight, and they slowly broke apart. Her hand moved from the back of his neck to his cheek, her warm palm against his face, her thumb tracing the line of his scruffy facial hair. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were liquid desire. Pacey closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t fall prey to the temptation to kiss her until they both collapsed. 

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” she suggested. 

He shook his head. “Screw talking. Let’s go do something fun.”

“You keep saying that, but you have yet to come up with any workable ideas.”

“I have plenty of ideas."

“Do tell.” 

“Okay, but fair warning, they all involve getting you naked.”

Joey rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. “Dream another dream, cowboy.”

Pacey snorted. “Come on, Jo. What’s something you’ve never done before, that you wished you’d done when you were a kid but now it seems like you’re too old to do it?” 

“Uh…” She blushed. “Well, now that you mention it, there is _one_ thing...” 

“I can’t believe you’ve never done this before.”

“Shut up Pacey, and turn around. And no peeking.”

He turned his back obediently and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it in the rushes. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

“I will.”

“Okay.” 

Pacey stepped out of his boxers, leaving them bunched up atop the rest of his clothes. He kept his back to where he knew Joey was, which left him staring at the beach house. It was even more run-down now than it had been when he and Gretchen had lived there, all those years ago. He’d done his best to fix it up and make it liveable, but had never quite figured out how to stop the water coming out of the pipes brown, or to completely end the roach infestation. He’d patched up the holes in the walls though, and got rid of the rats. After his sister had moved back to Providence, he’d been forced to leave the house and move back in with his parents. For a little while, anyway. Once he’d flunked out of high school, Pop had kicked him out, and he’d been forced to crash with Doug until he’d got the job at the Ice House and could pay his own rent. 

A splash in the creek behind him brought Pacey back to the present. 

“Oh, my god. It’s so cold!” 

He laughed. “Are you ready?”

“To see you in your birthday suit?” she replied, her voice carrying across the water. “Never. But thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to cover my eyes.”

“You know,” he said as he turned around and strolled toward the creek. “Some people would consider you a very lucky woman.” His voice changed pitch as he walked into the water. She hadn’t been kidding - it was bitterly cold. 

Joey laughed. “And some would consider you a very deluded man.” 

She waited a moment, then turned around to see him approaching her, waist deep in the dark water. It gradually rose to cover his hips, his stomach, his belly button and the tracing of dark hair that led downward from it. All that time on his sailboat obviously kept him fit, she mused. His stomach was flat, his shoulders broad and arms muscular and strong. He grinned at her, then dove into the water, and she caught a glimpse of his bare ass before he disappeared from sight. 

Pacey resurfaced a couple feet from her. He pushed his hair back, droplets of water running down his face and across his shoulders and arms. She couldn’t stop staring at him, illuminated in the moonlight. She’d never wanted to kiss a man more than in that moment, and she wondered if the lust was visible in her eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

He swam closer, until he was right next to her. “You sure about that?”

 _No._ She wanted to reach out and touch him, to run her hands through his wet hair, to slide her palms down the sides of his neck and across his shoulders. To feel his cool, wet body pressed against hers, skin to skin, nothing but water between them. Blushing furiously, Joey looked away, gazing across the creek as it shimmered in the moonlight. Fireflies danced near the shore, and somewhere nearby, an owl hooted. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” she said quietly.

“Yes.” He was still staring at her. “It is.”

“Stop it, Pacey.”

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like that.” If she could pretend that it was all him, she could keep telling herself that this was okay. That being here with him, naked as the day she was born, was no problem at all. 

He blinked rapidly, as if clearing his mind. “Sorry. It’s just--well, I’m having a really good time.” Uncertainty crossed his features. “You?”

“Horrible,” she told him. Her toes touched the bottom of the creek, silty and slimy with water weed. Joey pulled her feet up and started treading water again. “I have no idea what possessed me to think this was a good idea.”

“An overwhelming desire to see me naked?”

“That’s gotta be it,” she deadpanned. “It couldn’t possibly have been that I wanted the chance to do... _this_!” 

On her last word, she pushed her arms out in front of her and splashed him. The water rose up and hit him in the face, and Pacey spluttered. 

“Oh, you little...I’m gonna get you for that!” He moved toward her, and Joey shrieked and turned around, giggling as she swam away. 

A few minutes later, they declared a truce. Joey was shivering, her teeth chattering as she smiled at him, and Pacey had never wanted to sweep a woman into his arms more than in that exact moment. With an effort, he pointed toward shore. 

“We should go in before you get hypothermia.”

“Good p-p-plan.” 

“I’ve got blankets in the Jeep,” he told her as they made their way back to the shallower water. “Give me a minute, and I’ll run up and grab them. Then I’ll give you all the privacy you need.”

“Okay.” Her toes sank into the silt at the bottom of the creek, and Joey flinched as slimy water weeds wrapped around her legs. “G-go quickly.”

“I will.” 

He stood up, and she averted her eyes just in time. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then strode through the shallows and up onto the rushy grass that grew around the edge of the creek. 

Pacey looked around for his clothes, but he couldn’t find them. _Dammit._ He must have lost his bearings in the near-darkness. He looked up the slope at the beach house, and saw the moonlight reflecting off the windshield of his Jeep. He knew he hadn’t locked it, so he decided to make a dash for the blankets, hoping that nobody in this neighbourhood decided to look out of their window at the exact moment that he was running buck naked across the large sloping lawn. 

He was almost there when a flashlight beam hit him in the face. _Shit._ Pacey averted his eyes, scrunching his face as he clapped both hands over his privates. 

“I should’ve known.”

He’d never thought he’d be so relieved to hear the familiar voice of his older brother.

“Deputy Doug. Fancy meeting you here.” Pacey straightened up, still squinting into the beam of light. “You mind not pointing that directly into my face?”

Doug lowered the beam, then swung it sideways with a curse word as he realised Pacey had ceased attempting to cover himself. “Jesus, Pacey. What the hell are you doing?”

“Swimming.” He kept moving towards his Jeep. He couldn’t keep Joey waiting.

“Naked?”

“Obviously.” 

“Alone?” Doug’s flashlight beam swung out across the lawn and into the creek. Pacey thought he detected a tiny movement as Joey ducked her head underwater, leaving a ripple effect on the dark surface. 

“Yes, Dougie. Alone.”

The flashlight swung back toward him, much to Pacey’s relief. 

“That’s perverted, Pace.”

“Well, you’d know.” He pulled the driver’s side door of the Jeep open and reached into the back. “Do you mind not shining that thing right up my ass?” he grumbled. “I’d ask how you found me, but I’m assuming you were simply on your regular patrol for naked men.”

“You think you’re funny, Pacey, but you’re not.” Doug’s exasperation was clear. “I had a call from a concerned citizen. They said they could hear splashing and screaming coming from the creek, wanted me to come and check it out.”

“Well, you found me. All of me.” Pacey turned around, blankets in hand, arms outstretched as he put himself on display. Doug rolled his eyes and pointedly looked away from him. 

“Get dressed, and get out of here.” He clicked the flashlight off, finally. “And you didn’t come to family dinner last week.”

“No, I did not. And I gotta say, I recommend it. I had a great time _not_ eating lukewarm pasta and being verbally abused for two hours.”

“And what exactly were you doing that was so important?” Doug demanded. 

“I had a date.”

His brother scoffed. “Yeah, right. Pull the other one.”

In Pacey’s daydream, Joey would have chosen that moment to exit the water. She’d come striding up the lawn at that exact moment, dripping wet and completely nude, her long hair trailing down her back, nipples erect and those impossibly knowing eyes looking straight at him, filled with lust. She’d walk right up to them both, sling her arm around Pacey’s neck, and say something incredibly smart and witty that would render Doug utterly speechless. 

But Joey was still in the water, hiding. And the longer he stood here talking to his brother, the colder she was going to get.

“Fine. You got me. I fell asleep on the boat.”

“Shocking.” Doug was perfectly content to believe that version of events. “Get out of here, Pacey.”

“I will.”

“Now.”

“I left my clothes down by the water.”

Doug sighed heavily, as if Pacey was a small child he couldn’t leave alone. “Are you serious?”

“I’ll go get them, and then I’ll leave. I swear.” He pulled his keys out of the Jeep and flicked on the penlight that he kept on his key chain. “Five minutes.”

“Fine.” Doug leaned back against the Jeep, waiting. 

He was seriously going to stay there until Pacey left. “Come on, Doug. Gimme a break.”

There was no sign from Doug’s expression that he had any intention of doing so, but fortunately for Pacey, a call came in over his police radio at that precise moment. Doug answered it, using his serious cop voice that Pacey had mocked so mercilessly for so many years. Just then, he was grateful to hear it. 

“I have to go. Can I trust you to get out of here without any further disturbances to the peace?”

Pacey saluted him. “Yes sir, Deputy Doug, sir.” 

Doug rolled his eyes. “Screw you, Pacey.”

“No thanks, that’s illegal,” he called after his brother, chuckling as Doug flipped him off.

Pacey waited for him to drive away, then grabbed a blanket and ran down the slope toward the edge of the creek. 

“Joey?” he called. He couldn’t see her, and his penlight wasn’t picking up any ripples on the surface. Fear flooded through him. “Joey?” he called again, louder this time. “Jo!”

“I’m here.”

Her voice came from behind him, and he leapt and spun around to see her standing there, fully dressed in her shorts and tank top, still shivering. 

“Shit, Joey. I’m so sorry.” He flung the blanket around her and rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up. “Deputy Doug was on patrol, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to rip his little brother a new one.”

Joey pulled the blanket around herself gratefully. “I thought for a minute you were going to leave without me.”

“Never.” He reached out and pushed her wet hair off her face. His hand lingered on the back of her head, and she tilted her face up to look at him. “I wouldn’t go anywhere without you.”

Her eyes were enormous, gazing up at him. They brought to mind that story she’d read on his boat, about the dogs with eyes as big as round towers. This girl could give those dogs a run for their money, he thought. Joey blinked once, slowly, then ran her tongue along the seam of her lips, and Pacey was done. Done pretending, done trying to hold back. With his hand still against the back of her head, he leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers. 

Her lips were warm and soft, and they parted easily under the brush of his tongue. Pacey moved his mouth over hers, his lips nipping gently as he caught her bottom lip with his teeth, and a quiet moan escaped Joey’s mouth. The sound drove him wild, and he moved in closer towards her, forgetting his nakedness, forgetting that she had a boyfriend, forgetting that they had told each other they were just friends. He didn’t want that. Not if he could have this. 

Joey’s entire body felt like it was on fire. She was buzzing from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, where Pacey’s fingers were entwined through her hair. His mouth on hers was gentle, yet firm. He kissed like he did everything else - with purpose and passion, no holds barred. All cards on the table to be sure she knew how he felt. He was no good at masking his emotions. She, on the other hand, had made an art out of it, of putting up a wall and hiding behind it. And then he’d come along and taken one look at her, and every single brick in that wall had crumbled into dust. 

“Pacey.” She whispered his name against his lips, and he paused. His breath was hot against her mouth. She’d never been more turned on in her life, but so much of this was unfamiliar, and the deep-seated tendrils of fear started writhing deep inside her. She breathed the next word against her own will. “Stop.”

To his credit, he did. He pulled back slowly, his eyes fixed on hers. His breath was coming hard and fast, and his expression so filled with lust that it paralysed her. But he stopped when she told him to, and the creeping fear started to ease. 

“Sorry.” He looked down, his eyes fixed on her shoulder, covered by a thin spaghetti strap. “I got a little carried away.”

“I think we both did.” Joey’s voice was coming through louder now, and more certain. She cleared her throat. “But we’d better get out of here, right? In case your brother comes back.”

Hope surged in his chest. “Uh, yeah.” He adjusted the blanket that was slipping off his shoulders. “I gotta find my clothes first, and then we can go wherever you want.” 

Joey tugged the blanket tighter around herself. “That would be home, Jeeves.” 

He tried not to let on how deflated her choice made him. “Yes, Miss Daisy.” 

“We could pretend, you know.” 

He idled the Jeep at the stop light, even though there was no one else out there, no other traffic on the road. He could’ve blown straight through it, and on any other night, he would have. But not tonight. He wanted to take as long as possible to get Joey home, to delay their inevitable goodbye.

“Pretend what?”

“That you don’t have a boyfriend. Just for a night.” 

She didn’t say no. Not right away, and the silence stretched out between them. “I don’t think so, Pacey.”

“But you considered it.” Hope fluttered in his chest. “You, Josephine Potter, actually considered engaging in illicit sexual relations with someone you only met a few weeks ago.”

Joey narrowed her eyes at him. “You presume to know me so well.” 

“I _do_ know you. Just like you know me.”

“I hardly know you at all.”

“That’s not true.”

She bit her lip, knowing he was right, refusing to admit it. “Pacey?”

“Hmm?”

“The light’s green.”

“So?” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Now that he’d kissed her once, he wanted desperately to do it again. To hold her close and kiss her senseless, to explore every inch of her body with his mouth. “It’s not as if we’re holding up traffic.”

He reached across the seat towards her, and Joey didn’t move away. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he ran his fingers across her jaw. He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, and her mouth opened, inviting him in. Slowly, gently, she bit down on his thumb, drawing her tongue across the underside of it, and Pacey let out a low, involuntary groan. 

Joey’s eyes opened at the sound, glowing in the green reflection of the traffic light. She shifted her weight backwards, and he removed his thumb, reading the uncertainty on her face as he continued to cup her cheek. He knew that she wanted this, wanted him, but her mind wouldn’t let her follow where her body wanted to take her. 

Joey turned her head and softly kissed his palm, then reached up and drew his hand down into her lap. For a long moment, she simply sat and stared at their interlocked hands, her fingertips tracing the soaked bandage that still covered his stitches. 

The traffic light switched to amber. 

Then Josephine Potter took a breath, looked at him, and said “Let’s go somewhere.” 

He couldn’t breathe. “Somewhere like--?”

She shrugged, her eyes as deep and dark as the night sky. The light turned red. “Wherever you want to take me.”

“Christ, Jo. Don’t say that to me.” 

She raised her eyebrows and her mouth twisted into that cute half-smile that he was already obsessed with. Her hair was still wet from their swim, her eyes filled with desire as she cradled his hand in both of hers, resting on top of her thigh. 

“Does this mean that…” He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to break the spell, but he had to know for sure what it was that she wanted to do. “That we’re going to do this?” Pacey didn’t miss the way she tensed up at his words, or the flash of anxiety that crossed her face. “I don’t mean...there’s no pressure, Joey. I’m not trying to… I mean, I would never…” He frowned at his own inability to articulate his meaning. “I just want to be with you. Wherever, however, whatever that means.” 

“It means...well...” She trailed her fingernails up the inside of his arm, making him shiver. “I’m tempted, Pacey. You have no idea how tempted I am.”

“If it’s anything close to how I feel right now, I think I have some idea,” he said in a strained voice. 

The light turned green again. They still didn’t move.

“It’s just… If I do this. If we do...this. There’s no going back. I’d be cheating on my boyfriend.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that?” he asked. “You kissed me first, remember?”

“You said it yourself, that was barely a kiss,” she retorted. “I don’t know if that one counted. And tonight, _you_ kissed me.”

“Yes, I did. And I’d do it again, if you’d let me.”

“That’s what I have to decide.” Her fingertips reached the inside of his elbow, tracing the thick vein in the crook of his arm. “It’s the point of no return, right?”

He shrugged. “I suppose so.”

The light flicked to amber again, then red. It felt like a metaphor for his life. The suspense was killing him. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Joey.” He waited until she looked up at him again, her dark eyes filled with emotion. “I can wait.”

The corner of her mouth twisted up into a hopeful smile. “Really?”

“For you? As long as it takes.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. They sat still and gazed at each other until the traffic light shifted back to green. 

“We should go,” she said breathily. 

“Okay. Then I’m going to need my hand back.”

“Oh.” She let go, and he tried not to feel bereft as he put the Jeep into gear and they started moving at last. “It’s too quiet in here,” she decided, leaning forward to turn up the volume on the radio. 

An over-enthusiastic man advertising erectile dysfunction pills blared through the speakers, and Joey smirked in Pacey’s direction before changing the station. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned her. “You’ve got nothing to worry about on that front, believe me.” A fact that she’d have hard evidence for - pun intended - if she decided to investigate.

Joey giggled. “Good to know, I guess.” She flipped to the next station, which was playing a pop song from at least ten years ago. 

Pacey groaned. “I hate this song.”

“Everyone says they hate this song. That’s part of its charm,” she insisted, then started humming along.

“These aren’t even lyrics,” he complained, focusing on the music so he wouldn’t have to think about how badly he wanted to grab her and kiss her and explore every inch of her body with every inch of his. “Do-do-doo-do-doo-oo isn’t exactly musical genius.” 

Ignoring him, Joey started singing along to the opening verse. “ _She had two babies_ . _One was six months, one was three…”_

“How’s that even possible?” Pacey interjected. “A six month old _and_ a three month old? Does this woman have some kind of genetic abnormality?”

“Shut up.” Joey reached across and slapped his chest with the back of her hand. “You know that’s not what it means.” 

Pacey caught her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, dropping gentle kisses along the edge of her fingers. 

“How can you be sure?” he asked. “I mean, maybe she’s a freak. You ever consider that?”

The song hit its chorus, and he turned his head and looked at her. While he’d never have chosen to listen to this song, the lyrics suddenly seemed incredibly relevant. He didn’t want to wait for their lives to be over. He wanted to know right now what it would be. 

“Pacey.” Her voice was breathy, her palm clammy in his grasp. “Pull over.” 

His heart thumping against his ribs, Pacey did as she said. They stopped on the side of the road, and Joey reached over and unclipped her seatbelt, letting it retract back into its holder. Pacey’s eyes were wide as he switched the engine off, but left the ignition on so that the radio continued to play. 

Maybe he didn’t hate this song, after all.

 _And the war he saw lives inside him still_ _  
__It's so hard to be gentle and warm..._

Joey slid across the seat, closing the space between them. Her eyes were filled with desire as her hands clutched his t-shirt and pulled him toward her. Pacey unclipped his own seat belt with one hand and reached for her, grabbing her hips and drawing her closer. His mouth crashed into hers, and this time there was no hesitation from either of them. He kissed her like his life depended on it, and she kissed him back the same way. Her body arched against his hands, and he pulled her into his lap until she was straddling his hips. Pacey slid his hands under her thin tank, feeling the bare skin underneath, and Joey shuddered. His hands went higher, across her ribcage, until his thumbs brushed the soft underside of her uncaged breasts. 

Joey let out a soft gasp. “Pacey.” 

She mumbled his name into her mouth as he kissed her, and he lifted his hips involuntarily, so incredibly turned on by this amazing woman that he couldn’t quite see straight. Her hands were in his hair, tilting his head back as she peppered his face with kisses, her soft lips pressing against his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his temple. She leaned into him as his hands roamed across her breasts, her nipples hardening under the lightest brush of his thumbs. Joey moaned softly and trailed kisses down to his ear, where she took his earlobe gently between her teeth, then traced the edge of it with her tongue. 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned again, a guttural sound from deep in his throat. “What are you doing to me, woman?”

Joey sat up a little, a mischievous smile on her beautiful face. “You like that?” she teased. 

“I love that. I love _you_ .” _Fuck._ He hadn’t meant to say that. He felt Joey tense up in his arms, and he slid his hands down to her ribs. He could feel the thump of her heartbeat under his palms. “Sorry. I … that just kinda came out. Heat of the moment, and all.”

She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes still uncertain. “It’s just that… I barely know you.”

“I know.”

“It’s a little soon for you to be falling in love with me,” she said softly. “Don’t you think?”

“Maybe that depends on whether you believe in soulmates.” She rolled her eyes, and he shrugged. “I’m just saying. Maybe Dawson had it right, after all. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, Joey. And I’m not saying that to scare you. God knows, the last thing in the world I want to do is scare you off. But we said we’d be honest with each other, and I’m really trying to hold myself to that. So, at the risk of ruining everything, the answer is yes. I think I’m in love with you.” 

Joey bit her lip, her brow knitted into a frown. “You think?” she asked quietly. “Or you know?”

Pacey met her eyes, staring into their depths with as much certainty as he could convey. “I know.” Her breath came out in a shudder as he continued talking. “I’ve known it since the moment you kissed me, and maybe even before that, and as scary as it is, I don’t want to run from it, and I don’t want to let you run from me.” He slid his hands down to her waist, then around to lace together against the small of her back. 

Joey frowned. “I don’t know what to say, Pacey.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He leaned in, trying to kiss her again, but she pulled back. 

“I mean, I like you. I really, _really_ like you. But I don’t know if that means that I’m in love with you, or if I’m just weirdly hormonal right now, or...”

“Anyone ever tell you that you have a tendency to overthink things?” he teased her gently. 

She pouted. “No. Never.” 

He laughed, both of them knowing she was lying. He moved his hands up her back and drew her in toward him. This time, she didn’t resist. “So I guess the next question is...do you want me to stop kissing you right now?”

“No,” she breathed. “Never.”

As he kissed her again, Joey ran her hands through his hair, pulling him closer, intoxicated with desire. She wanted to touch every inch of him, to explore his beautiful body with her hands, her lips, to press her bare skin against his, feeling the friction between them both. She ground her hips against him, feeling how hard he was through his jeans, and Pacey groaned. He reached around and grabbed her butt, pulling her even closer. 

“Wait,” he muttered. Joey paused as he reached down to the side of his seat and pulled a lever, tilting it backwards. “Okay, go.”

She smiled at him, her pulse rate quickening by the second. Pacey’s hand slid back under her shirt, then across her stomach and down to the top of her shorts. She felt him start to unfasten the top button, and her stomach clenched. 

Pacey paused, feeling her hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?” he breathed. 

Closing her eyes, Joey shook her head. “No.” 

Her attention to his pleasure waned as he pulled down her zipper, then slid his hand inside her shorts. She gasped as he touched her, and he could feel how wet she already was. He slipped his hand underneath her panties, and wound his fingers through her moist curls. 

“Oh, my god.” 

He couldn’t believe this was real, that they were really doing this. Any second now, the spell would break. She’d tell him to stop, and he would, because he’d have to, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to stop time and just live in this moment for the rest of his life. It wasn’t just that she was so beautiful, or that she felt so good as he slid his fingers inside of her. It was that it was _her_ , wanting a loser like him to be the one feeling her up in the front seat of his car. Every carnal teenage fantasy he’d ever had about the cheerleading squad or Kristy Livingstone paled into insignificance. He’d done this before, sure, but it had never felt like this. Tamara had been the one guiding his unsteady hand, Andie had been extremely vocal about her wants and desires, but Joey just responded instinctively to his touch. The sound of her whimpers as her inner walls clenched around his digits was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life. 

His thumb moved, seeking out her clit, and Joey bucked against his hand, her breath coming in hot pants now as she pressed herself into him. 

“Pacey.” His name, spoken breathlessly against his neck. The name he’d always resented his parents for saddling him with was suddenly the most wonderful sound in the world. 

She cupped his face in both her hands, his stubble rough against her palms, and kissed him for as long as she was able to before she started to come undone. Her panting breaths filled his mouth, her silken mound filled his hand, and Pacey groaned as she rubbed herself against him. He pushed further, deeper inside of her, and Joey let out a muffled cry, then shuddered to her climax. She collapsed forward onto him, her face pressed against his neck as he slowly removed his hand from her shorts.

“I’ve never done that before,” she whispered into his ear. 

“What, made it to third base in the front seat of a car? You definitely should’ve known me when you were fifteen,” Pacey told her. “You would’ve led a much more interesting life.”

Joey giggled. “Don’t I know it.” She sat up and kissed him again, taking his lower lip gently between her teeth and running her tongue along the edge of it. Pacey groaned, his own arousal swelling. 

“My god, you’re perfect.”

For some reason, those words made her freeze up again. Joey broke off their kiss and sat up a little in his lap, her brow furrowed. 

“Hey.” He reached up with his bandaged hand and smoothed the creases from her forehead. “It’s okay.”

“What am I doing, Pacey?” 

“Being spontaneous.” 

“That’s one way of putting it. Being a cheating whore would be another,” she said sadly.

“Don’t say that.” 

“Is there anything fundamentally untrue about that statement?”

“You might be cheating, but you’re not...the other thing.” He hated that word. Couldn’t even say it out loud. “You just let your baser instincts take over, that’s all.”

She bit her lip, looked down into his lap, then back up at his face. “What do we do now?”

The uncertainty in her eyes and the uneasy tone of her voice made the decision easy for him. On a cerebral level, at least. On a physical level, his next words described the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. 

But he did it anyway. 

“Now,” he said, putting his hands on her hips and shifting her off his lap, “I take you home.”

Joey bit her lower lip and looked anxiously at him as she buttoned her shorts. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Hell no. You did everything right.” 

He let out a breath, trying to stop his head from spinning. He could still feel her on his fingers, and his car was filled with the scent of her. He had never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted her. But he needed her to want him back, just as much, and he didn’t think she was there yet, not while the shadow of her boyfriend hung over them both. 

She paused, confused. “Are you sure?” she asked, looking at his now vacant lap. “Don’t you want--”

“I want what you want, baby,” he said. “And I don’t think that’s what you want.”

Joey frowned. “But you can’t be satisfied. I mean, I can tell you’re not.” 

“I’ll wind down in a few minutes.” He met her mystified gaze. “What?”

“I just...you really are something else, Pacey Witter.” She leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. “I wish I _had_ known you in high school. Maybe you could’ve taught me a thing or two.”

The drive to Bessie and Bodie’s house was far too short, Pacey decided. He wanted to sit in the car with Joey for hours, to keep going right through the night until the sky lightened and the sun came up, to drive into forever with her and never look back. He wanted to take her all the way back to Boston himself the next morning, making the most of every second he could spend with her, but he’d made plans to visit Gretchen, and he couldn’t back out now. Besides, he wanted to see his sister. There was a lot he needed to talk to her about.

He stopped the Jeep at the end of Bessie’s short driveway, and switched off the engine. The radio kept playing, another pop song that he’d never really paid attention to before, but the lyrics suddenly seemed to make total and complete sense, articulating how he felt better than he ever could. Joey turned her head and looked at him, and he felt himself coming apart. Like the song said, he was truly, madly, deeply in love with her. 

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.”

He shook his head. “Not quite yet. There’s one more teenage rite of passage that we never got to do together. C’mon.” 

He turned up the volume on the radio, then opened his door and stepped out of the vehicle. The night had cooled, but the stars were still bright overhead, and the nearly full moon bathed the tiny front yard in an ethereal glow.

The passenger side door clanked shut, and Pacey walked to the front of the car and stood there waiting as Joey made her way toward him. He drank in the sight of her long legs and crooked smile. He loved everything about her, from the graceful, fluid way she moved to the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and his stomach swooped with anticipation as she reached his side.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you all night, Miss Potter. Will you dance with me?” 

Placing one hand behind his back, he bowed low. Joey giggled and made a quick curtsey, holding her hands out to either side of her hips as though holding up an invisible dress. Pacey held his hand out to her, and she took it without a moment’s hesitation, her fingers wrapping around his as he drew her in closer. She unleashed that thousand-watt smile on him that made him go weak at the knees, and he guided her hands up to his shoulders. Joey wrapped her arms around his neck, moving closer and closer together until her body was pressed against his. Pacey slid his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him, and Joey rested her cheek against his collarbone as they slowly moved to the music blaring from the tinny radio. 

_I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy_ _  
__I’ll be your hope, I’ll be your love, be everything that you need_ …

“I’m so glad I came here.” Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, and Pacey tilted his head lower until her lips were brushing against his cheek. “I’m so grateful to have met you.”

“Not as grateful as I am,” he said, his arms tightening around her lower back. “I still can’t quite believe that you’re real.”

“Me either.” 

Joey leaned her face against his shoulder, breathing him in as her hands reached up to cradle the back of his head, drawing it down towards her. His lips brushed against the curve of her neck, making her shiver. She never wanted to let him go. She had never felt so safe, so cared for, in her entire life. 

When the song ended, neither of them moved. Pacey had his eyes closed, one hand in her hair, holding the fine, damp strands like a lifeline. Another song started, another song that seemed to know exactly how he felt in that exact moment. 

_And I’d give up forever to touch you_ _  
__‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow_ _  
__You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be_ _  
__And I don’t want to go home right now..._

They swayed back and forth, her fingers sliding upwards through his short hair, her hips finding his through their thin summer clothing, her lips pressed against his cool, damp skin. Heat was building inside him in every place she touched. He had one hand in her hair, cradling her head against his body as his other hand ran up and down her back, the tips of his fingers trailing sparks from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine.

If Joey had burst into flames in that moment, she would barely have been surprised. They danced on a precipice, both wary of taking the next step, that final plunge over the edge into eternity.

 _When everything’s made to be broken  
_ _I just want you to know who I am._

The song ended, and a commercial broke the spell. Pacey stopped shuffling his feet, and Joey leaned into him still, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. She could feel him against her, feel every inch of him, from the cool touch of his hands to the firm heat pressing against her. Her body was awake, alive, responding to him in ways she’d never expected. It was heady, frightening, overwhelming. Incredible. 

“I don’t want you to go.” 

Pacey didn’t know he was going to say the words aloud until it was too late. He felt her tense in his arms, and mentally kicked himself, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always been someone to wear his heart on his sleeve, to be honest about his feelings, and he couldn’t stop now. 

“I don’t want to leave you, either,” she whispered.

She meant it. He’d been abandoned by too many people in his life - people he’d loved, people who’d let him down. Who’d used him and abused him, from the teacher who’d seduced him to the father who’d beaten him, from the girlfriend who’d been taken away to the best friend who’d left him behind. So many people for whom his love hadn’t been enough. She didn’t want to be another person in his life who didn’t appreciate just how deeply and fiercely he loved them back. 

Pacey sighed, his breath hot against her neck. “So, don’t. Stay here.” His lips traced a path up to her ear. “Stay with me, Joey.” He kissed her cheek, so gently, so softly, that she felt herself go weak at the knees. “Please?” 

She closed her eyes, hot tears trailing down her cheeks - unbidden, but not entirely unexpected. Pacey tasted salt on her skin and straightened up, surprised. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you--”

“It’s not you.” She turned her head aside, brushing at the tears. “I don’t want to hurt you, Pacey.”

“Then stay.”

“I can’t.” 

A deep chill seeped into his bones, and he slowly loosened his arms around her. “You can’t, or you won’t?” 

“Pacey…”

“I’m crazy about you, and I don’t want you to go anywhere.” His heart was battering against his ribcage as he made his final plea. “I know it’s stupid, and selfish, and that it’s not what you want for your life. But you asked me what _I_ wanted, and I promised I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know you did.” Joey wiped tears from her eyes. “And I’m not going to lie to you either.” She lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m not brave. I’m not spontaneous, I don’t make sudden or wild decisions. I just don’t. And as much as I want to be with you, and as much as I think I could be in love with you, I can’t just throw everything that I’ve worked so hard for aside, just on the chance that this could work out.”

He felt like she’d hit him in the stomach with a sledgehammer, except that would’ve hurt less. 

“But that’s what love is,” he insisted. “It’s taking chances, it’s being brave--”

“Which is why I can’t do it. I can’t just upend my life like that.” 

“So you’re just going to give up?”

“No.” She held her breath, then let the words out in a rush. “I want you to come with me.”

“What?” 

“It was Bessie’s idea. You could be the brave one. You could come with me.”

“To live in Boston?” His head spun at the idea. Apart from his brief sailing trip down to Florida when he was a teenager, Pacey had spent almost his entire life in Capeside. He’d never even set foot in Boston before. “I can’t do that, Joey.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“What am I going to do in Boston?”

“There are plenty of restaurants there. I’m sure one of them would be happy to hire you.”

“I’m not a trained chef. All I know how to do is deep fry frozen food, any idiot can do that.” 

Joey bristled. “You’re not an idiot, Pacey. You could learn, take on an apprenticeship, or do a culinary course. There are lots of good schools in Boston--”

“I flunked out of high school, Joey,” he reminded her. Reality came crashing into his life as he dropped his hands to his sides. He had to let her go. It was never going to work between them. These past weeks had felt like an incredible dream, and now it was time to wake up. “I won’t get into college.”

“You could study for your GED--”

“I don’t _want_ to study. I hated studying, that’s why I didn’t do it.” 

“I’ll help you.”

“I don't _want_ you to have to help me!” he snapped, his temper fraying. He didn’t want to take it out on her, but he couldn’t stop himself. She needed to realise that she couldn’t fix him. He was a lost cause, and the sooner she realised it, the better off she’d be. “I don't want to be your charity project, Joey.”

“You’re not a charity project!” They’d broken apart completely at that point and stood a foot apart, staring at each other. Joey felt her whole body shaking. How had it come to this? How had one of the best nights of her life suddenly turned into the worst? “I want to be with you. But there’s nothing for me here.”

“And there’s nothing for me in Boston!” He was practically shouting at her now.

Joey felt her anger rising. She welcomed it, embraced it. It was so much easier to be angry with him. “You don’t know that!”

“And you don’t know that you can’t make it work in Capeside! So what, this place is good enough for Bessie but it’s not good enough for you? Of course it isn’t. Nothing ever is.” His voice dropped as he looked at her. “Including me.”

“I did not say that!” she demanded. “When did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to say it, Joey. We both know that it’s the truth.”

“Pacey!” She stepped forward, making a grab for his arm, but he pulled it back out of her grasp. “So what, that’s it? You’re just giving up?”

“Giving up on what? On us? As you keep reminding me, Joey, there _is_ no us. You have a boyfriend, and tomorrow you’re going back to him, and you’ll look back on this as some stupid summer fling that you’ll probably never tell him about--”

“I’m going to tell him, Pacey.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why bother? What difference does it make? You’re not coming back.”

“Of course I’m coming back. My family’s here, I’ll always come--”

“You’re not coming back to me.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I thought you would. Nobody ever does.”

He turned around and started to walk away from her. 

“Pacey!” she cried. 

She wanted to run after him, but her legs wouldn’t move. And what would be the point? She couldn’t promise him anything. She’d sworn to always tell him the truth, and the truth was, she was far too scared of losing everything to risk letting any of it go.

Pacey reached his Jeep and pulled the driver’s door open. He kept his head down, his eyes on the steering wheel as he climbed in. His hand fumbled the key into the ignition. He turned it, and the engine rumbled, failing to turn over. _Come on. Not tonight._ He didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t look up. He turned the key again, his foot down hard on the clutch as if that’d make a difference, and to his relief, the engine came to life with a roar. 

Only then, finally, did Pacey lift his head. The first thing he saw was the elm tree branch, still lying across the yard. Just another thing in his life that he’d left unfinished. Joey was still standing on the lawn, backlit by the porch light, her arms wrapped around herself, her long hair whipping around her face. He knew she was crying, and more than anything, he wanted to go to her, to hold her in his arms and tell her that it would be okay. To tell her that he loved her, and would always keep her safe. 

But he couldn’t let them keep lying - to each other, or to themselves. If he didn’t drive away now, he wouldn’t be able to do it at all. And he had to do it. For both of their sakes. 

“Goodbye, Joey,” he whispered, shifting the Jeep into gear and easing off the clutch. “Have a nice life.” 

The vehicle began to roll forward, and as Pacey drove away, he finally let his own tears slide down his cheeks. 

“Joey?” The front door cracked open, and Bessie stepped out. Joey was sitting on the porch steps, her head in her hands, her body racked with sobs. 

“Leave me alone.”

Bessie sat down next to her, and put an arm around her shoulders. “I heard shouting.”

Joey lifted her head guiltily. “Oh, god. Did we wake Alexander?”

“Remarkably, no.” Bessie rubbed her sister’s arm, feeling the pebbled goosebumps on her bare skin. “What happened, Jo?”

“I did what you said. I asked him to come with me.”

“You did?” Joey nodded, and Bessie’s heart sank. “What’d he say?”

“What do you think? He said no.” She drew in a ragged breath. “He said he doesn’t want to live in Boston, and I said I can’t live in Capeside. There’s nothing for me here. No offence,” she muttered quickly. 

“I’m not offended, Jo. And honestly, if you did spend your life here, I’d be disappointed.” 

Joey lifted her head and gave her sister a quizzical look. “You would?”

“Of course. I love it here. This is the life for me. But it’s not for you. You never wanted this.”

“I don’t even know what I want anymore. Maybe I could be happy here. Or maybe I’d be miserable.” She sighed. “I just can’t tell anymore. I thought that when I got older, I’d be better at making decisions, but I feel like I’ve completely lost my way, and I have no idea what I even want.” 

“Do you remember my twenty-first birthday?” Bessie asked. “Mom took us to that travel agency, and we walked around looking at all the brochures of all the places we could go. Africa. Asia. Europe. Australia.”

Joey nodded. “And all you wanted was to go to Canada.”

“I wanted to go to a lot of places, but Mom couldn’t afford the tickets. I knew it, and so did she. So I said I wanted to go to Montreal. We rode the bus the whole way up there, and spent the weekend walking around and seeing the sights. And on the way home, she apologised to me. Said she was sorry that she couldn’t have taken me somewhere more exotic, more exciting. And I told her that I didn’t mind, but that she was going to have to start saving, right then and there, for your tickets to Paris when you turned twenty-one, because I’d seen the look on your face when you’d picked up that travel brochure with the Eiffel Tower on the front, and I knew you wouldn’t settle for anything less.” She looked at Joey’s tear-streaked face. “When you turned twenty-one, what I wanted, more than anything in the world, was to be able to hand you a ticket to France. To make your dreams come true. But I couldn’t afford it. And then you called and told me that you’d met someone, and you wanted me to meet him. David and I didn’t exactly warm to each other, but I remember thinking _at least he’ll be able to give her her dream. He’ll be able to take her to Paris._ ”

Joey sank her head down, staring at her lap. David had tried to take her to Paris last year. They’d paid for their flights, had started booking accommodation when his eldest daughter, Sybil, had found out about their plans. She’d sent her father an email, refusing to come for Christmas if he took Joey to Paris. Joey wasn’t supposed to know about that. She’d been looking for another email on David’s laptop, trying to find a booking confirmation for their hotel, and had discovered it. She’d never mentioned it to him, but the following day, he’d told her that something had come up, and he’d have to cancel their trip. Joey had struggled that Christmas to even look Sybil in the eye, wondering why the girl hated her so much, and whether that would ever change.

“You kept that travel brochure for years,” Bessie recalled. “It’s your life, Joey, and you can do what you want with it. But make sure that you do what _you_ want. You’ve got the money - go to Paris. On your own if you want to. Climb the Eiffel Tower--”

“There’s an elevator."

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to climb it. There’s an elevator.”

“Whatever. The point is, you’ve wanted to go since you were eleven years old. So, go.”

Joey sighed, letting her mind wander back to the hopeful child she’d once been. “It wasn’t just Paris.” She wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to warm herself up. “Every time I went past a travel agent after that, I collected another brochure. I had a whole box of them under my be, and whenever I felt discouraged, I’d pull them out and flip through them.” The images from those brochures were still burned into her brain. She could see them in her mind’s eye, as clear as day. “Sometimes Mom would sit with me, and we’d talk about all the places we wanted to see. The pyramids in Egypt. The night markets in Malaysia, the canals in Venice, the Great Wall of China. The Sistine Chapel. I promised her that one day I’d be rich enough to take her anywhere in the world that she wanted to go.”

Joey rubbed her tear-stained face as Bessie slid her hand comfortingly up and down her spine.

“Even after she got sick, we still talked about it. We’d open the books and look at the photos, then close our eyes and imagine what each place would be like - how they would smell and sound. One of the last things Mom ever said to me--” Joey’s words were tight, hard to squeeze out past the thickening in her throat. “--she said _Oh, the places you’ll go_.” She sniffed, wiping at the tears flowing freely down her face. “ She said that I was going to have a wonderful, exciting life. See things that she’d never seen. She told me to think of her when I was exploring the world.” Joey swiped at her cheeks, sobbing now. “I can’t help feeling like I’ve let her down.” 

Bessie leaned into her, holding her sister close as Joey’s thin body was wracked with sobs. “You haven’t let her down, Joey. You never could. She’d be so proud of you.”

Joey just shook her head without lifting it. 

“Yes, she would,” Bessie insisted. “You’ve grown up into the smartest, strongest, most beautiful daughter she could’ve imagined. And if you don’t believe that, then believe this. _I’m_ proud of you.” 

Joey lifted her head, scrubbing at her cheeks with the palm of her hand. 

“You shouldn’t be. I’m a terrible person. I cheated on David tonight, and he’ll never forgive me for that, nor should he. But I thought Pacey might have been worth it. And then he turned me down, too. I just blew up my entire life for nothing.”

“Not for nothing. Not if you keep trying. So you’ve made some mistakes. Now you pick yourself up and you dust yourself off, and you keep going,” Bessie said, pressing a kiss against Joey’s damp hair. “That’s what Mom used to tell me, when I came home from school crying because the other kids were being mean to me. She just said _Keep your chin up, and follow your own path. Only you know where it’ll lead._ ”

Joey sniffled. “What if I have no idea where it’ll lead?”

“Then trust your instincts. Do what makes you happy, Jo. Life’s too short to live it for other people.”

Bessie watched her sister’s chin wobble as she broke into fresh tears. She collapsed into her arms, and Bessie wrapped her arms around her and held her tight as tears of her own slid down her cheeks. 

“I love you, Bessie.” 

“I love you too, sis. I have faith that you’ll figure this out.” She rubbed Joey’s bare arm gently. “And you know, if the worst comes to the worst, you can always move in here and be my full-time babysitter.”

Joey smiled through her tears and nodded, her face still buried in Bessie’s hair. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here it is. I wrote this chapter weeks ago, and have been working towards it ever since. Also a disclaimer, this isn't the kind of content I usually write (I write clean YA in my regular life) but every time I tried to change this scene or tone it down the characters wouldn't let me, apparently Joey REALLY wanted this to happen so ... she got her wish. Hopefully you liked it. 
> 
> Playlist:  
> I Don't Wanna Wait - Paula Cole  
> Truly, Madly, Deeply - Savage Garden  
> Iris - Goo Goo Dolls  
> Nightswimming - R.E.M.


	12. Morning After

**_‘Cause I see sparks fly_ ** **_  
_** **_Whenever you smile_ **

* * *

When Pacey got in his Jeep the next morning, he didn’t drive straight to Hartford. He made a detour first, hoping that it wasn’t too early to stop by the house that he’d been stopping by for most of his life. 

It was a little after six a.m. when he walked up and knocked on the back door, shuffling his feet as he waited. The screen porch was unswept and untidy, and the potted plants in the corner were wilted and dry. Next door, Mrs Ryan’s curtains were still drawn. The stitches in Pacey’s right hand throbbed, but he welcomed the pain. Last night had been one of the worst nights of his entire life, and as much as he wanted to pretend that it had never happened, he also couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop seeing Joey’s face, the hurt in her eyes, the determined set of her chin as she fought back tears. Couldn’t stop hearing her voice. 

_I want you to come with me._

Pacey shook his head, forcing the memory away. Nobody answered his knock, so he tried the door handle. The door opened easily, and he stuck his head inside the familiar living room where he’d spent so much of his childhood.

“Hey, Mitch? You in here?”

There was no answer to his call. Pacey stepped over the threshold, looking around. Mitch’s housekeeping left a lot to be desired, and it was clear that the man lived alone. The dining table was stacked with magazines, discarded clothes and sports equipment, with one end clear for Mitch to sit and eat his meals. Dirty dishes were stacked on the kitchen counter next to the sink, and there was an empty box of beer next to the enormous flat screen TV. Mitch Leery had never truly recovered or moved on after his divorce. He’d dated a few women over the years, but none that he’d loved as much as Gale. He’d told Pacey once, when they’d both been drunkenly watching the Super Bowl, that if she’d ever come home, he would’ve taken her back. Even though she’d had an affair, even though she’d cheated on him for no good reason at all, he still loved her enough to forgive her, and take her back. Pacey had sat there, listening to Mitch’s lament, and had wondered if he could ever love someone enough to forgive that kind of betrayal. 

“Pacey!”

He turned around in the doorway to see Mitch striding up the lawn toward him. Dawson’s father was shirtless and wearing swimming trunks that left disturbingly little to the imagination. He still worked out regularly, and his muscular torso gleamed in the morning sun as water dripped off him onto the lawn. Mitch jogged up the porch steps and slapped Pacey on the shoulder as he went into the house. 

“What brings you here so early?”

“Uh, I’ve got a favour to ask.” 

Mitch opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of some kind of green juice, which he poured into a blender. 

“Ask away. You want a smoothie?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Sure? Lots of protein. It’ll get you through the day.” He glanced down. “What happened to your hand?” 

“I cut it at work.”

Mitch gestured at him to come closer as he chopped up a banana and added it to the blender. “Let’s have a look at it.”

It was a familiar routine for the two of them. Pacey would come over with one injury or another, and Mitch, who was far from being a medical expert but who’d played enough football in his youth to know basic first aid, would patch him up. Putting arnica on his bruises, iodine on his cuts, a band-aid here and a compression bandage there. More importantly, he’d also give Pacey something to eat, and a safe place to stay. After Dawson had left, Pacey’s visits to the Leery house had become even more frequent. He and Mitch had been two lost souls, both missing the same person, both wondering how they fit into the world without him. 

Pacey removed the bandage, which was slightly crusted with dirt after his swim the night before, and revealed a row of stitches that looked red and inflamed. Mitch clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“You know you have to clean that up.” 

Pacey reached for the medical kit under the sink as Mitch continued adding protein powder and a fistful of fresh blueberries to his smoothie. The sight of the blueberries made Pacey’s stomach twist into a knot of anxiety and regret. Joey’s smile as she threw a blueberry across the kitchen toward him. Her smirk when he’d caught it in his mouth. He wondered if he’d ever be able to look at blueberry pancakes again without thinking of her. 

Mitch blended the drink, poured it into two glasses, and set one down in front of Pacey. 

“Thanks.” He applied iodine to the stitches, trying manfully not to wince at the stinging.

“When did this happen?”

“A couple days ago.” It felt like forever since then. It felt like no time at all. “I was de-boning chicken, and thought I’d practice on my own hand.”

It was a lame joke, but Mitch guffawed as if it were the height of comedy. He took a long swig from his smoothie, then reached for the first aid box and started pulling out gauze and tape, getting ready to re-bandage Pacey’s hand.There weren’t many people in Pacey’s life that he allowed to look after him - there weren’t many who tried - but Mitch was one of them. Pacey knew that it was because Mitch missed his son, and missed being a father. He’d always been a good, hands-on kind of dad. Not like John Witter, who’d been hands-on in a whole different way.

“So, how’s your lady?” Mitch asked as he unwrapped the gauze strip. “Jodie, wasn’t it?” 

“Joey.” He drummed the fingers of his left hand against the table. “Uh, she’s going back to Boston.”

“Soon?”

“Today.”

Mitch looked up and met his eyes, and Pacey read the sympathy there. “Oh. That’s a shame. She seemed like a nice girl.” 

That was the understatement of the century. “Yeah, she is.”

“Well, Boston’s not that far. You could always go and visit her.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, turning his head away from Mitch’s intense stare. 

“Are you in love with her?”

“I’ve only just met her.” 

“So? That doesn’t mean you can’t be in love. When I met Gale, I knew she was the one for me. Right out of the gate.” Pacey frowned, determined not to bring up the fact that Mitch’s _the one_ had cheated on and divorced him. “If I know one thing, Pacey, it’s that if you love someone, you have to set them free. If they’re meant to, they’ll come back.” He laid gauze over Pacey’s wound. “Hold that while I cut the tape.”

As Mitch rummaged in the first aid kit for scissors, Pacey thought about what he’d said. Did he still think that Gale was going to come back to him someday?

“You ever think about moving, Mitch?”

The man looked up, surprise written across his face. “Away from Capeside?”

“Yeah.” 

“Sometimes,” he admitted, to Pacey’s surprise. “But I love it here, and I love this house. I have so many good memories here.”

“There must be some bad ones, too.”

“Sure. But I think if you work hard enough at it, you can forget the bad memories, and only remember the good.” He finished taping the plaster to Pacey’s hand, then picked up his smoothie and drank it down in several long gulps. “Now, what’s this favour you wanted to ask?”

“You’re going to have to get up eventually.”

Joey opened one eye and peered at her sister, standing in front of her and holding Alexander. “Go away.”

“No.” Bessie sat down on the pull-out bed, making the springs creak. “Ugh. This bed isn’t very comfortable.”

“No kidding.”

“Well, look on the bright side. Today you can go home and sleep on your own mattress.”

“Unless David throws me out on my ear,” Joey muttered, burying her face in the pillow.

Bessie reached over and patted her shoulder. “There, there. Now, come on. Up and at ‘em.”

Joey rolled onto her side and glared at her sister, who stared innocently back at her. “Where’s your sympathy?” 

“I used it all up last night. It’s time to pick yourself up and dust yourself off. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

Joey groaned as she sat up, wiping sleep from her eyes. “Fine. But first, I want to cuddle my nephew.”

“Help yourself.” Bessie handed him over, and Alexander nestled happily into Joey’s arms. “I’m going to make a pot of tea. It’s my special Wake Up blend. Guaranteed to get you moving.”

“You know what else would get me moving? Coffee.”

“You know we don’t keep that in the house,” Bodie said, coming into the room and beaming down at his son. “That much caffeine isn’t good for you.”

“So you keep saying. Just another reason I can’t wait to get back to Boston.” 

She relinquished Alexander into Bodie’s eager arms, and watched the tall man hold his child tenderly against his chest. It was a nice, heartwarming sight, but it didn’t send her hormones into overdrive the way seeing Pacey with Alexander had done. Turning around from innocently drying dishes to see Pacey holding him against his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world had made every part of her reproductive system spasm with a sudden, intense longing. Which made no sense, because it wasn’t as if she was ready to have children. She wasn’t even sure that she ever wanted children. She had never been able to picture herself having a child with David, being unwilling to bring another person into what was already an awkward situation with him and his existing children. The ease with which she’d been able to picture Pacey as a father was a little unsettling, but no less attractive for that.

As Joey felt her body start to warm at the thought of Pacey, she swung her legs out of bed and stood up, determined to put him out of her head. 

“That’s the spirit,” Bessie said encouragingly as she headed into the kitchen. “Tell you what. If you can be ready in the next half hour, so we have time before Bodie goes to work, I’ll take you to my favourite breakfast spot for one last dose of quality sister time.”

Joey plastered a smile on her face, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach. “Can’t wait.”

After taking a shower, Joey folded up the couch for the last time. Or she tried to, but for some reason, it got stuck. She shoved it harder, and heard something crack. 

_Shit._ Glancing around to make sure Bessie and Bodie weren’t in earshot, she went to investigate. The metal frame appeared to still be intact, so she felt down the side of the couch, and her fingers wrapped around something hard and plastic. 

She pulled the DVD out, remembering Pacey’s attempts to hide it from her the night before. It was cracked along the spine, but the title was still clear. _How to Marry a Millionaire._ Joey rolled her eyes at the title. She’d never seen the movie, so out of curiosity, flipped it over and read the synopsis on the back. 

_Three women on a mission: They all want to marry a millionaire. To accomplish this task, they move into a fancy New York City apartment and begin courting the city's elite. They have no problem meeting rich men, but unfortunately most of them turn out to be creeps or cons. Eventually they must decide: Is a life of luxury more important to them than finding true love?_

The last line seared itself into her brain. _True Love._ Memories of the afternoon she’d spent on Pacey’s boat came floating back. Her bare feet in his lap as she read aloud to him. Sitting on the beach, painting a picture as he dozed by her side, one arm thrown carelessly over his face. The cries of the gulls overhead, the warm smell of the pines behind them, the sailboat bobbing on the waves just offshore. She could’ve stayed there forever, just watching him sleep.

“Ready?”

Joey straightened up, tossing the DVD onto the coffee table. “As I’ll ever be.”

Pacey stared out at the open road that lay ahead of him. Trees lined either side of Route 6, and his Jeep rolled along at a steady pace, being overtaken fairly regularly but holding steady at 55mph. If he’d had a faster car, like the sleek red Mustang that had just zipped past, he might have been tempted to break the speed limit, or at least push it a little, but the Jeep knew its limits, and he didn’t want to risk a breakdown out here, miles from home. 

_Home_. His whole life had been spent in Capeside, apart from those few months when he’d finally escaped. He’d sailed down the eastern seaboard, testing his limits, fending for himself. Sure, there had been nights when he’d gone hungry, days when he’d wandered fruitlessly around an unfamiliar town searching for work, and several terrifying hours in the midst of a storm he’d seriously thought he might not see the other side of, but he had made it. He’d proven to himself that he could survive on his own, and he’d proven it to his family as well. 

Then he’d called home one night and Doug had answered, and had told him that Pop was sick. That he’d been rushed to hospital, that he’d had a heart attack, and he might not make it through the night. Pacey had sat up for hours, staring at the wall of the cabin inside his boat, trying to decide what to do next. He hated his father. He loved his father. He didn’t care if he never saw him again. He desperately wanted his approval. 

When he’d called Doug back the next morning, he said Pop was a little better, but not out of the woods yet. He’d told Pacey that it was up to him if he came back or not, but he knew their father would want to see him. 

Pacey wasn’t so sure about that, himself. His father had never craved Pacey’s presence, not that he could remember. Except, there had been that one time when he was nine years old, and he’d been shooting hoops in front of the garage, and Pop had come home in his police cruiser. He’d flashed the lights and whooped the siren, then he’d got out of his car, unbuckled his gun belt, and gestured to his son to throw him the ball. They’d spent the next fifteen minutes playing HORSE, and when Pacey had won, his father hadn’t even been mad at him. He’d just patted him on the head and said “Not bad, Pacey. Maybe you’ve finally found something you’re good at.”

Unsurprisingly, Pop had been wrong about that. Basketball had turned out to be just another sport that Pacey wasn’t great at - although Gretchen had been, making the Varsity team in her Junior year. But the memory of that fall afternoon had stuck with him, and as that recollection had come back, so did others. Watching the Super Bowl together, high-fiving when ‘their’ team scored (back before Pacey started cheering for the opposition, just to wind his father up). Pop taking him and Dawson to see Jurassic Park for the tenth time, and deciding to come along and “see what all the fuss is about”. He’d driven them both home, and after a few minutes of listening to Dawson regale him with every behind-the-scenes fact about how the film had been achieved, had told his friend that he didn’t particularly care to know how the sausage was made. To Pacey, who’d heard all of those facts over and over, ad nauseum, for weeks, his father’s dismissal of Dawson’s liturgy was music to his ears. They’d dropped him home, and on the way back to their house, Led Zeppelin had played on the radio, and they’d turned it up and let it thump out of the speakers all the way back to the Witter house.

They were small moments, nothing much in the grand scheme of things, but they’d been enough. He’d decided to go back to Capeside to cut his adventure short and spend some time with his father. He’d considered briefly abandoning the True Love and asking Doug for money to fly home, or take a bus, but he’d had too much pride. Pacey had wanted to sail back into port the way he’d sailed out of it - under his own steam, with his head held high. After assuring his brother that he’d be back as soon as possible, he’d turned his boat around in Savannah, GA and started sailing back to Cape Cod. 

He’d arrived two days after his father passed away. 

Pacey was fairly certain his mother still hadn’t forgiven him for that. He knew for sure that he hadn’t forgiven himself. 

Bessie took her to a small cafe by the waterfront, and they sat at a picnic table and ordered from the breakfast menu. When Joey’s coffee arrived, she took a blissful sip, letting the bitter warmth spread across her tongue. 

“Oh, I’ve missed this.” She opened her eyes and looked at Bessie, who was smiling at her. “What?”

“I know you’re dying to go back, really.”

Joey set her coffee cup down, running her finger absently along the rim. “Part of me is,” she admitted. “But another part of me feels like I’m running away.” After a moment's pause, she shook her head, plastering a smile on her face. “Ignore me. Let’s not talk about that. Tell me about you.”

“What about me?”

“Anything. Everything. I’ve been here for weeks and we’ve barely talked, and whenever we have had a deep and meaningful conversation, it’s been all about me.” Joey hadn’t realised that until she said it out loud, but it was true. 

“There’s not a lot to say, Joey.”

“Of course there is. Tell me about your new hairdressing career. Do you think you’ll get back into it when Alex is a little older?”

Her sister shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not entirely sure that it’s for me.”

“You did a great job on Pacey’s hair,” Joey said encouragingly, already forgetting that she wasn’t going to talk about him.

“I couldn’t have made that mop look any worse,” Bessie pointed out. “And I don’t know. I thought it might be fun, but I don’t love it. And I don’t want to spend my days doing something I’m not passionate about. As hard as Bodie works, he loves his job. He gets up in the morning excited to be at the restaurant, and he loves cooking for people. I think I need to find something I love as much as that.”

Joey took another long sip of coffee, mulling over her sister’s words. Her own job had never been one she’d been overly excited or enthusiastic about. The paychecks were nice - very nice - but the job itself was tiring and often tedious. Because she was involved with David, the actual management of people wasn’t often handed over to her, as it was considered a possible conflict of interest, so she spent most of her time going over legal documents and creating water-tight contracts. Lately, some staff members had been making noises about joining a union, but the powers that be at the firm were hoping she’d be able to dissuade them, which made her uneasy. Joey came from a blue-collar family and knew the potential benefits of unionizing. 

“What if you could do anything?” Joey asked Bessie, trying again to distract herself from thoughts of her own job. “If money was no obstacle, and you could have any job in the world, what would you want to do?”

Bessie’s reply came without hesitation. “I’d open a B&B.” 

Joey’s mouth fell open. “You would?”

“Yeah. It was Mom’s dream, too. While you two made plans to go jet setting around the world, she and I talked about opening our own bed and breakfast.”

“Then you should do that! Capeside would be the perfect location,” Joey said excitedly. “You’d be a wonderful host, and Bodie’s cooking is phenomenal. It’s perfect for you two.”

Bessie smiled sadly. “It’s a pipe dream, Joey. For starters, we don’t even have one spare bedroom in our house, and I can’t rent out the couch.”

“You could build an extension.”

“With what money? We just had a baby, and we can barely pay the bills as it is.” Bessie’s eyes were downcast. “Not to mention the hospital bills that are still coming in.”

“I thought you told me that Bodie’s insurance covered that?”

“It would’ve, if I’d been able to have a vaginal birth.”

Joey’s discomfort at the v-word paled into insignificance as she remembered that day. “Is that why you were so determined not to have a caesarean?” 

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Bessie. If I’d known--”

“You’d have said the exact same thing that you said that day, and you were right to say it,” Bessie replied. “We’ll be okay, Joey. We’ll pay it off somehow. But we won’t be going into the B&B business any time soon.” 

Joey sighed. “Do you need money, Bess? Because--”

“No. Don’t even suggest it.”

“But--”

“Joey, that’s your money. I’m not taking it. And you might need it yourself soon.” 

Joey bit the inside of her cheek, knowing her sister was right. She was living with David at the moment, but if he threw her out - which he was likely to do, when he found out what she’d done - then she’d need to find her own place, and in Boston, that wasn’t likely to come cheap.

“Still.” She reached across the table and took hold of her sister’s hand. “If you get into trouble, serious financial trouble, you’ll tell me, right? You’ll let me help you?” She saw the stubborn set of Bessie’s jaw, and tightened her grip. “Please, Bessie. You can pay me back, with interest if you insist, but I need to know that you’re not too proud to ask for help. You’ve taken care of me for years, and I’d like to be able to return the favour.”

Bessie opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the waitress arriving with their food. She set the plates down in front of them, making brief small talk before moving on to her next table. Bessie looked down at the stack of blueberry pancakes in front of her, then back at her sister’s pleading face. 

“Fine. You win.” Bessie stabbed her fork into the pancakes, watching fresh blueberries roll onto the table. “If I need you, I’ll call.” She looked up and met Joey’s eyes. “As long as you promise to do the same. I’ve missed you, Jo.”

Joey smiled at her. “I’ve missed you too.” 

Pacey pulled up outside Gretchen’s small suburban home to find his sister sitting on the front steps, waiting for him. He jumped out of the Jeep as she stood up, both of them grinning at the sight of each other. Pacey grabbed the single enormous cupcake in its plastic casing off his front seat, and jogged across Gretchen’s unkempt lawn to meet her. 

“Gretchzilla!” 

“Hey, loser.” She took the cupcake from him moments before he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground in a spinning hug. “Agh, Pacey! Put me down!”

Surprised, Pacey did as she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She smiled at him, but she didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Just didn’t want you to put your back out.”

Pacey scoffed. “I’ll have you know that I’m in peak physical condition right now.”

“Peak condition for a sloth, maybe.”

Pacey clutched his heart. “Your words shoot to kill.”

“Poor you.” Gretchen reached up and scruffed up his hair. “This looks good.”

“Oh, yeah.” Pacey ducked out from under her touch. Thinking about his haircut made him think about Bessie, and that made him think about Joey, and he couldn’t do that right now. “Figured it was time for a trim.”

“It was well past time. Did whoever cut this have to use hedge clippers, or--?”

Before Pacey could think up a retort, the front door opened and Gretchen’s boyfriend Nick stepped out. 

“Hey, man! You made it.” He waited as Pacey jumped up the steps and slapped his hand into a firm handshake. “Gretch was starting to think you’d stood her up.”

Pacey frowned, checking his watch. “I’m not _that_ late.”

“You said you’d leave at six,” his sister reminded him. “I was expecting you at nine, and it’s past ten. I was worried you’d gotten into a car wreck or something.”

“To which _I_ said, since when is Pacey ever on time for anything?” Nick replied with a chuckle. He came out onto the porch and sat down on a tattered wicker chair, stretching his feet out in front of him. “So, what’ve you two got planned for today?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Gretchen shrugged. “I thought we’d just hang out. Go see a movie, take a walk.”

Pacey frowned at her, then glanced at Nick, who was shaking his head. “A movie? A walk? Is this a birthday outing or a first date?”

Gretchen rolled her eyes. “What else did you have in mind?”

Pacey reached into his back pocket and pulled out a flyer that he’d picked up at the convenience store where he’d bought Gretchen’s cupcake. He handed it to her with a glint in his eye.

“Paintball?”

“What could be more traditional for a Witter family birthday than two members of said family trying to kill each other?” he shrugged. “So what d’you say? You in?”

Nick reached for the flyer, snagging it out of Gretchen’s hand. “She might not be, but I am. I’ve been meaning to check this place out for ages.” 

Pacey glanced at Gretchen, who was frowning. “I don’t know. I’m not really in the mood for paintball.”

“Not in the mood for paintball?” Pacey shot a surprised look at Nick. “Gretchen, c’mon. It combines two of your favourite things - running around _and_ beating me up.” 

She shrugged. “Maybe I think you’ve been beaten up enough, Pace.”

The familiar ache returned to his stomach at her words. He could see Joey’s warm eyes in front of him, feel her hand on his cheek, her sympathy for him as he’d told her about his father, about his teacher, about all of the people who’d pushed him aside or left him behind. 

Then she’d gone and done the exact same thing.

Nick groaned. “Give it up, Pacey. She’s been like this all week.”

“I’ve been sick, okay?” Gretchen glared at her boyfriend. “I told you that. I said I wasn’t feeling well.”

“You had a virus. We all had it, and you didn’t see me lying in bed all day watching chick flicks and crying.”

“Okay, okay.” Pacey cut in, his eyes darting between the two of them. Gretchen and Nick had always had a slightly antagonistic relationship, and he didn’t feel like standing in the middle of it. “We’ll do whatever you want, birthday girl. Go for that walk on the beach or whatever.”

“We’re in Hartford, Pace,” Gretchen reminded him. “There is no beach.”

“Just another reason why I could never live here. Capeside for life.”

His sister tilted her head, giving him a strange look as she picked up her purse from the porch steps. “I hope not.” 

He tried to ignore that comment, then averted his eyes as she leaned over and kissed Nick goodbye. Pacey didn’t need to see that. Not today. He looked around the yard instead, noticing the overgrown weeds in what had used to be flower beds. Next door, a couple of kids shrieked as they chased each other across the lawn. 

Gretchen straightened up, and Nick slapped her butt as she turned around.

“Have a good day. Don’t be late back for your party tonight.” He caught Pacey’s surprised look. “You’re staying for that, right Pacey?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.” He looked at his sister, who shrugged. “I have work in the morning, so…”

Nick snorted. “Blow it off, man. Call in sick or tell them your car broke down or something. I’ve seen that old Jeep you drive - they’ll believe it.”

Pacey kept his eyes on Gretchen. She said nothing, but her silence spoke volumes. “The thing is, I’m trying this new thing where I’m being a good employee.”

Nick shot him a questioning look as he leaned back in his chair, the wicker creaking under his weight. “Why?”

“Dunno. Turning over a new leaf, I guess.”

“Don’t turn too far,” Nick warned him. “We like slacker Pacey. And you should definitely stay tonight. Riley’s out of town, so you can crash in his room, and Gretchen’s got some hot single friends at the moment. You’re a decent looking guy. I’m sure at least one of them would bang you.”

Pacey’s stomach clenched into a tight knot. A year ago - who was he kidding, a few weeks ago - he might have found the prospect appealing. Now all he could think about was Joey, her thighs across his lap, her hot mouth panting over his as she came apart under his hand. He didn’t want any other girls. He just wanted her. 

Gretchen stepped off the porch and headed toward the Jeep. “Let’s go, Pace.”

“C’mon, it was a joke! I was kidding!” Nick called after her, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I wasn’t kidding. Play your cards right and get them drunk enough, you’re guaranteed a night you’ll never forget.”

He winked, but Pacey couldn’t smile in return. He just turned and followed his sister.

“You got everything?”

“I think so.” Joey cast her eyes across Bessie’s living room once more time, then stood her suitcase up and pulled out the retractable handle. “If not, it’ll just give me an excuse to come back.”

The rumble of a truck engine outside attracted Bessie’s attention, and she went to the window. “Huh. I wonder what he’s doing here.”

Joey’s head snapped up. “Who?” 

Bessie shot her a pitying look. “Mitch Leery. He just pulled up outside.” She headed toward the front door as Alexander started to wail. With a sigh, she diverted down the hallway. “Go see what he wants, will you Jo?”

Joey dragged her suitcase out onto the porch, shutting the door behind her. Mitch was just stepping out of his shiny red pickup, and he raised a hand and waved to her. 

“Morning, Joey.”

“Hi.” She walked down the path toward him, leaving her luggage on the porch. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad, not bad. Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He waited for her to nod agreement. “You just can’t beat these summer mornings on the Cape. I bet you’ll miss the sea breeze when you’re back in Boston.”

“Uh, yeah.” Joey frowned, wondering how he knew. 

Mitch kept talking. “We’ll be sorry to see you go. I’m willing to bet your sister will miss you almost as much as someone else we both know,” he said with a wink. 

Joey swallowed, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at this man that she’d met once who seemed to know a lot more about her life than she was comfortable with. 

“I’m sure she will. What can we do for you?” she asked pointedly.

Mitch reached into the tray of his pickup and lifted out a chainsaw. “Pacey stopped by this morning and asked me to come and sort out your tree branch.”

“He did?” Her heart flip-flopped inside her chest. “He didn’t have to do that.”

“That’s Pacey for you,” Mitch shrugged. “He’s got a heart of gold, that kid. Always has had.”

“You’ve known him for a long time?”

“Since the day he was born.”

Joey bit her lip. “Can I ask you a question?”

Mitch pulled on a pair of work gloves. “Shoot.”

“Did you know his father?”

“John? Yeah, sure.” Mitch’s expression darkened a little. “He wasn’t a bad guy. Tough on his kids, but I guess with five of them, he felt like he had to be. And some of that goes with the job, you know?” He saw Joey’s blank expression and clarified. “He was the local sheriff. Always felt very keenly that his children were a reflection on him, and Pacey has been getting himself in trouble since he started kindergarten. Probably before that. He almost drowned my son when they were four years old.” His brow furrowed. “Not intentionally, of course. They were playing in the creek, dunking each other as boys do, and Pacey held Dawson under a little longer than he should’ve. My wife was very upset, but I think Pacey cried even harder than Dawson did when he realised that he’d hurt his friend.”

Joey pulled her mind away from that image. “So were you aware of what Pacey’s dad did to him?”

Mitch frowned. “What he did?”

Joey raised a hand to her face, her finger indicating the location of Pacey’s scar, and recognition dawned on Mitch’s face.

“Ah, that. It was an accident, you know.” 

Joey shot him a look, and Mitch blanched slightly, his eyes darting away from her accusing glare. “Like I said, John Witter was a hard-ass. Ex-military, you know. He had high expectations of Pacey, and he was disappointed that his son wasn’t living up to them.”

“Did you ever stick up for him?” She met Mitch’s confused look with rising anger. “Ever tell John to back off, or speak up against him to other people?”

“He was the sheriff.” Mitch shrugged. “Who would’ve believed me?”

“Right.” The knot inside Joey’s stomach intensified. “So you just let him go on abusing his child for years, and never lifted a finger or raised your voice to stop him. Good to know.” She turned and started to walk back to the house.

“Hey, Joey. It’s not...it wasn’t like that.” His voice was pleading, and she stopped and slowly turned around. 

“No? What was it like to have an abusive, high-functioning alcoholic running the police department? Sunshine and roses, I’ll bet.”

“John might’ve been hard on him, but Pacey reaped the benefit of his father’s status,” Mitch countered. “That whole thing with his tea--” He bit off the end of his sentence. “Let’s just say that Pacey got away with some things that a kid in his position might not’ve otherwise.”

“His teacher? That’s what you were going to say, right?” Joey advanced on the man. “So you honestly believe that he made it all up? This kid that you just described as having a heart of gold, the guy who, even though we got into a huge fight last night, still went to your house this morning to ask you to cut up a fallen tree on my sister’s lawn - you really think he’d wilfully end someone’s career for the gratification of his own ego?”

Mitch just blinked at her. “I--” He shook his head. “Look, Pacey’s a good kid, but he’s always been a bit wild.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that.” Joey turned away impatiently and went back to the porch, where her sister was standing with Alexander in her arms. 

“What’s going on?” Bessie asked. Mitch started the chainsaw, and walked over to the tree branch. “What’s he doing?”

“What's it look like?” Joey grabbed her suitcase handle and dragged it down the steps. 

“Why?”

“Because Pacey asked him to.”

Bessie put her hand on Joey’s shoulder, stopping her. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“And why are you so mad?”

“Because...” Joey drew in a breath. “Because he deserved better.”

“Who?”

“Pacey. He deserved better. He deserved people in his life who cared about him, who would’ve stepped up and told his father to stop kicking the crap out of him when he was a kid. He deserved to have someone, just one person, tell him that he was going to amount to something, because maybe then he wouldn't be so paralyzed by his own fears that he’s too scared to leave the small town where he grew up.” She shook her head, speaking thickly around the lump in her throat. “I just feel like nobody ever worried about him. Nobody ever stayed. He loved them so much, and they all left him behind. And he deserved better.” Tears started to roll down her cheeks. “He still deserves better.”

Bessie wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulder as Mitch started cutting the elm branch into pieces. “If it makes you feel any better, he has us now. At the very least, I’m going to insist that he comes over for a regular haircut.” 

Joey smiled through her tears, wiping them with the back of her hand. “He offered to babysit for you. Whenever you like.” 

“Of course he did.”

Joey met Bessie’s eyes, her vision still watery. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“I can’t answer that for you, Jo. But you do have to go back to Boston today. Whatever you decide, you have unfinished business there.” She waited as Joey nodded. “So, go. I have confidence that everything will sort itself out in the end.”

“How will I know that I’m making the right choice?”

“Whatever choice you make will be the right one, as long as you trust your intuition and follow your heart.” 

Joey sniffled. “Did you read that on the back of a herbal tea box or something?”

“Morning Sunrise,” Bessie grinned. “You really should try it. It’s a cinnamon, elderflower and licorice blend.”

“Sounds revolting.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“I don’t need to try it. I already know I’ll hate it.”

“And that’s just the kind of thinking that got you into this mess in the first place,” Bessie replied. “Thinking you know what you want without going out there and trying something new. Even if you don't think it’s for you - the universe just might surprise you yet.” 

Joey furrowed her brow. “So you’re saying that Pacey is the herbal tea in this analogy?”

“I’m saying that you don’t know what you don’t know, Joey. And that you’ll never find out unless you try. The only person who knows what you want is you. So, go and figure out what will make you happy, where you want to be, who you want to be with. Don’t worry about what you think you’re _supposed_ to want. It’s your life, and you have to be brave enough to live in it.”

Joey bit her lip. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Oh, it’s never simple.” Bessie stroked her sister’s hair fondly. “But you also don’t have to decide tonight. Take your time. You know where we’ll be.”

“I’ll come back soon.”

Bessie adjusted Alexander in her arms. “You’d better. I miss my sister.”

“I miss mine, too.” Joey reached out and touched Alexander’s nose with the tip of her finger. “Bye, Alex. See you soon, okay?” The baby blinked at her, then smiled. Joey grinned back at him, then looked at Bessie. 

“I know what that look means,” she said. “So you’re on your own now, sister. I’ve changed enough diapers for one visit.”

“So, what’s new with you? Doug told me you’d met someone.”

Pacey almost choked on his fries. “He what?”

Gretchen lifted an eyebrow in amusement. “Ah, so he was right. Interesting.”

“How does Doug--”

“He called this morning to wish me a happy birthday. We got to talking, and he said something about you having skipped out on family dinner and claiming that you couldn’t make it because you were on a date.” 

“I thought he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t. But you just gave yourself away.” She dipped another fry into her milkshake. “So, spill your guts little brother. Who is she?”

“ _Was_ ,” Pacey corrected her. “ _She_ has gone back to her regular life in Boston.” 

“Ah. Summer fling?”

“Something like that.” Pacey looked at the burger on his plate. His appetite had fled. “What about you? How’re things here?’

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not getting off that easy, Pace. Tell me about her.”

“Why? What’s the point?” he demanded. “She’s gone. It’s over.”

“Does it have to be?”

“She has a boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And even if she _does_ break up with him, like she said she would, there’s still no chance for us. She lives in Boston. Her job, her whole life is there.”

“She said she'd break up with her boyfriend for you?”

Pacey just snorted and ate another fry. 

“Do you believe her?”

He couldn’t answer that. He didn’t know the answer any more. “I thought I did.”

“So what changed?”

“She…” He drew in a breath. This was hard to say, but he’d come to Gretchen for a reason. He’d known she would understand. “She asked me to go with her.”

“She what?”

“Crazy, right? She asked me to move to Boston.” Pacey shook his head. “As if I could.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

He lifted his head. “Huh?”

“Why wouldn’t you go? What’ve you got holding you in Capeside?”

“Uh, my job.”

“Which you hate.”

He glared at her. “My boat.”

“It’s a boat, Pacey. It’s not fixed to one place. That’s kind of the point.”

“What about Mom?”

“What about her? You spend most of your time avoiding her, anyway. And she’s got Dougie. She doesn’t need us.” 

“Is that why you left?”

“I left because I went to college. I didn’t come back because I don’t belong there any more. Maybe I never did.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I don’t believe that. You remember when you took your boat down to Florida that summer? You just sailed away into the sunset, and I was so proud of you and excited for you. I thought maybe you’d never come back, that you’d end up sending me postcards from Australia or something.”

He raised his eyebrows sceptically. “ _True Love_ is a great boat, but even she might struggle to make it all the way to Australia.”

“That’s not what I meant. I figured you’d meet new people, go on grand adventures. But you just turned around and sailed back to Capeside, and never left.”

“I went back for Pop.”

“And never left,” she repeated. 

“So what, you think I should move to Boston? What would I do in Boston?”

“Find a job. You’re an enterprising guy, Pacey. You could make it work.” She looked at her brother’s stubborn expression. “This girl you met. What does she do?”

“She’s a lawyer.”

Gretchen’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Actually, she works in HR, but she has a law degree. From Yale. The Ivy League school to which she got a full ride.” 

Even as he recounted Joey’s successes, his intention being to prove to Gretchen just how wrong they were for each other, he couldn’t help the tingle of pride inside his chest. She was truly an incredible woman. 

“Wow. So she’s smart, driven, and beautiful?” She looked at him and Pacey nodded. _Beautiful_ didn’t begin to cover what Joey was. _A freaking goddess_ would’ve been a more accurate description. “Just your type, then.”

He scoffed dismissively. “Otherwise known as _way out of my league_.”

“Whatever. So did you kiss her?” She laughed at his answering scowl. “C’mon, Pacey. Spill your guts. You kissed her, didn’t you?”

“Actually, she kissed me first.” 

He still remembered that moment, standing under the hot sun in the hospital parking lot. Still remembered the warm press of her lips against his, that fleeting moment when the entire world had seemed to stop spinning, and he’d fallen headfirst into the depths of her green-flecked eyes. That moment when he’d dared to dream, just for a second, that he might mean as much to her as she did to him. 

“So she likes you.”

He blinked at Gretchen. “I think so.” His stomach swirled as he remembered her words from the night before. _I think I could be in love with you._ “Yes.”

“And you like her.”

There was no point pretending. She’d see straight through him. “Yes, I like her. I’m crazy about her.” He put his head in his hands and told her the truth. “I’m head over heels in love with her, Gretch.”

Gretchen swirled her straw around in her milkshake, giving her brother a pitying look. “Let’s start at the beginning, okay? Tell me everything. How’d you meet? How long have you known her? What brought her to Capeside in the first place?” She took a sip as Pacey lifted his head. “We’ll start with an easy one. What’s her name?”

“Joey.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Her name’s Joey. And we met when she walked into the Ice House one afternoon…”

He told Gretchen everything, just as he’d known he would. He told her about that first meeting, when Joey had come into the restaurant and floored him with her beauty and grace, and about how she’d really knocked him for six with the easy back and forth they’d fallen into. He told her about taking Joey to the carnival, to the movies, out on the boat, about sitting with her in the waiting room and sleeping with her on the couch. About her helping him at the restaurant, taking him to the medical centre, inviting him for dinner, painting him a picture. About babysitting and skinny dipping and how she’d kissed him first, and that when he’d finally got up the nerve to kiss her, she’d kissed him back. He didn’t go into details of their encounter on the side of the road, but the flush he could feel on his own cheeks probably spoke volumes. 

Pacey poured his heart out to his sister, who sat quietly and listened without comment to the entire thing. When he was done, she took another long pull of her drink before speaking.

“She sounds like quite a woman, Pace.”

“She is.” He sighed. “But here comes the real kicker, because true to form, I completely fucked it up at the end.”

“I wondered when you were going to start with the self-flagellation.” Gretchen rested her chin in her hands. “So she asked you to move to Boston, and you said no. What happened next?”

“What do you think? She got mad, and I got mad, and then I left.”

His sister shook her head. “Pacey, I love you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re an idiot.”

He sighed. “If that’s supposed to shock me, it’s not working. I’ve known that my whole life.”

“No, you’ve been _told_ that your whole life. Up to this point, you’ve almost never lived up to that reputation. You’re a good person and if she’s as smart as you say she is, she’ll come back for you.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure that she should. I mean, what have I got to offer her?”

“Stop selling yourself short,” Gretchen scolded him. “You’re still the best man I know.”

Pacey raised an eyebrow. “You _really_ need to get out more.”

She ignored that comment. “And next time she asks you to be with her, you’re going to say yes. You’re going to move heaven and earth to be by her side, because it sounds to me like she’s worth it.”

“What if she’s not? What if I move all that way and she turns out to be the worst mistake I’ve ever made?”

Gretchen shrugged. “It’s Boston, not Antarctica. If it doesn’t work out, you move home, or you stay there - you figure something else out. I will say this, though. Don’t move _just_ for her. Move because you deserve to give yourself a chance. God knows, nobody else ever has. And as sick as that makes me, at a certain point you’ve got to stop telling yourself that you’re the town screw-up.” She reached across the table and put her hand on top of his arm. “You’ve got to start believing in yourself more, Pace.”

Joey was almost gone. She made it all the way to the edge of town before she turned her rental car around and drove back through Capeside. _Just for one last look_ , she told herself. She just needed one last, long moment before she went back to Boston and did what she needed to do. But she kept turning off down side roads, following the maze of quiet streets, through suburbia, the boonies, out toward the edge of town, back toward the beach. She just drove and drove, exploring the small town. Down the main street, past the Rialto, past the roller rink, past the alleyway with the big brick wall at the other end. Past the marina, where she could see True Love bobbing on the waves. Past the Ice House, its raggedy flag flapping pathetically in the breeze. Down towards the beach, along past the creek, stopping near the creek where she and Pacey had taken off their clothes and slipped into the water, where she’d embraced that inner carefree teenager that she’d been so afraid to let loose for most of her life. For the first time, she mourned for that girl who might have been bold enough to swim naked years ago, who might have been brave enough to fall in love, and smart enough to meet a boy like Pacey and see through the clouds of his own self-doubt and into the kindness of his soul. Mitch had been right. The kid really did have a heart of gold, and he’d offered it up to her, no strings attached. She’d held it in her hands, thinking for a moment that maybe it was hers - and then had played her part in breaking it. 

Joey pulled the car off to the side of the road and sat behind the wheel, staring at the view, and wondering what she was supposed to do next. 


	13. Boston / Hartford

**_And lead me up the staircase_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Won't you whisper soft and slow_ ** _  
_

* * *

“Honey, I’m home!” 

The door shut behind David with a soft snick and Joey looked up from the book she’d been trying to read as he walked into the room. He set his briefcase down on the thick carpet of their apartment and smiled at her, loosening his tie with one hand. He looked the same as he always had - tall, wiry, attractive in an unexceptional way dressed in a well-tailored charcoal suit, a smattering of gray in his dirty blond hair. 

“Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” 

Joey laid her book down on the couch next to her, and stood up. “Hi.”

He held out his arms, and she went into his familiar embrace. For the past few years, she’d found comfort in his hugs, always steady and reassuring. David was a constant, nothing if not predictable. Sure, he could be a little boring and unromantic, but that was the way she’d always wanted it. That’s what she’d liked about him. It felt so false to suddenly want the things she’d specifically been attracted to him for not being. 

_ Damn you, Pacey. _ She pressed her forehead against David’s shoulder. She could feel the tight muscles in his arms and shoulders as he held her. He was a slim man, but muscular. He worked out every morning like clockwork in the gym upstairs in their building, and his arms were ropey sinew. She missed the soft warmth of Pacey’s broader shoulders, the muscles he’d developed naturally through hard work, the graze of his stubble against the side of her face. The way he’d held her like she was a dream come true, the way he smelled like the ocean on a summer’s day, the gentle trace of his fingers along her spine… 

“I missed you, Joey.”

Joey took a breath. “Me, too,” she heard her voice say. Mentally, she kicked herself. Why was it so difficult to tell him the truth? Why did she always default to a lie? She shifted back in his arms and he loosened his hold as she raised her head to meet his eyes.  _ Just do it _ , she told herself.  _ Tell him the truth.  _

“David, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” 

She forced the sentence out, hearing the tension rippling through every word. Hating how she was about to tear his heart out of his chest. 

“Me, too.” He smiled benevolently down at her, then traced the worry lines on her forehead with his thumb. “You know, I thought you’d come back looking all relaxed and tanned after your week on the Cape. But you look more anxious than you did when you left.” He frowned, dropping his hands to his sides. “Didn’t you have a good time?”

“Well, I went to Capeside to help my sister,” Joey reminded him, staring at the subtle pattern of his tie so she didn’t have to look him in the face. “Living with a newborn isn’t exactly relaxing, or conducive to a lot of sleep.”

“You poor thing. I remember those days.” He shuddered slightly at the recollection. “How’s your sister coping?”

Joey bit her lip to stop herself from asking whether he even remembered Bessie’s name. “She’s doing great, actually. She loves being a mom. And Alexander, for all his restless sleep habits, is gorgeous.” She smiled warmly at the thought of him, and David sighed. 

“I knew it. I knew this would happen.” 

She frowned at him. “Knew what?”

“That you’d come home with a bad case of baby fever.” He held his hand against her forehead teasingly. She pulled back from him with a frown. “You can admit it, Joey. A couple of weeks with a newborn baby and suddenly you’re changing your mind about never having kids. That’s what you wanted to talk to me about, right?”

She blinked up at him. “I--”

“You don’t have to lie to me. Have you been having second thoughts about not wanting children?”

She seized the opportunity to escape having to tell him the truth. “Maybe I am. Would you have a problem with that?”

David pursed his lips, then pushed her hair back from her face with a small smile. “Like I said, I suspected this might happen. I know I’ve gone on record saying that my baby-raising days are behind me, but if that’s what you want, then I could be persuaded to relent. You really would give me the most beautiful child.” He put his hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Just don’t expect me to be the one getting up at midnight or changing a diaper.” He shuddered, more dramatically this time. “I’m happy to say that’s one thing I’ve never done and never plan to do.”

Joey closed her eyes as Pacey flooded her vision. Pacey holding Alexander against his shoulder, laughing when he puked on his shoulder, smiling at him gripping his finger, offering to help her change his diaper, holding her when she was almost in tears trying to get Alex to stop crying… 

“Think about it,” David said. “Nothing has to be decided tonight. But in order to celebrate your return, I’ve made a dinner reservation at your favourite restaurant.”

“Civilization?” she asked. She was a big fan of the trendy Boston restaurant, but it would never be David’s first choice. 

“That’s the one.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome.”

Joey didn’t know what to do. She knew she had to tell him about Pacey - she owed him that much. But she didn’t want to have the conversation in a public place.

“I don’t know. Can’t we just stay in tonight? I’m pretty tired.”

“After your long drive up from the Cape?” he teased. “Come on, it’s the least you can do after leaving me alone for three weeks. Do you have any idea how quiet this apartment is without you?” 

She frowned. “We still need to talk--”

“We can talk over dinner. I’m starving, and the reservation is for eight o’clock. If we’re late, we risk losing our table, and I booked it two weeks ago. That place is crazy busy at this time of the year, it’s impossible to get in at short notice.”

“What if I hadn’t come home on schedule?” she asked as he headed for the kitchen. “You’d have had to find another date for tonight.”

He smiled. “But I knew you would. You’re not a spontaneous person, Joey. It’s not in your nature.”

Joey bristled at his dismissive comment, remembering fireflies dancing across a moonlit creek, the silken glide of the cold water across her bare skin, Pacey’s hot breath against her mouth, his hands on her body, inside her body, unleashing her completely. 

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” 

“Oh, I think I do.” He poured himself a finger of scotch, and took a careful sip. “I won’t keep you out too late. I promise.”

Pacey pulled his Jeep to a stop in front of Gretchen’s house, watching his sister reach for her seat belt. 

“Thanks for the company today, Pacey. Sorry to nix the paintball thing.”

“That’s okay.” He lifted his bandaged hand. “Probably better to rest this, anyway.”

“How’s it feel?”

“A bit sore, but nothing I can’t handle. You know the old saying,  _ Pacey’s hurt, must be Tuesday _ .”

Gretchen sighed, resting her head back against the seat. “Our father was an asshole.”

“Yeah. He was.”

“I wish I’d told him that to his face.”

Pacey grinned. “Bet he would’ve loved that.”

“Do you ever miss him?”

He drew in a slow breath. “I should say no, right?”

Gretchen shrugged. “You should say whatever’s true.”

“Do  _ you _ ?”

Gretchen thought for a moment. “Sometimes. He wasn’t as hard on us girls as he was on you and Doug. He came to a lot of my basketball games. Drove home telling me everything I’d done wrong, of course, but when I look back, I appreciate that he showed up. Every now and then, he tried.”

“Every now and then,” Pacey agreed with a sigh. “I don’t know how I feel. When he died, it was like a huge weight was lifted off me, but at the same time, it hit me that I’d never be able to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Live up to his expectations.”

Gretchen shook her head. “You want my advice? Stop trying. Look at Doug, and how it’s tearing him apart to try so hard to be like Pop. He’s so repressed he’s practically turned himself inside out. He needs to get out of Capeside even more than you do, but he won’t leave, either.”

Pacey winced at being lumped in with Doug, living out their father’s life, still trying to make the old man proud of him. A futile endeavor, but one Doug didn’t seem willing or able to give up. 

“Maybe I’ll move to Hartford,” he said lightly.

“Yeah, right. We both know you couldn’t live this far from the ocean.”

Through the car window behind Gretchen, he saw Nick step out onto the porch. There were already a few people scattered across their lawn, with others wandering around inside the house. Gretchen’s party was clearly going to be a rowdy one, but she didn’t seem enthused about it. They’d spent most of the afternoon at the movies, watching a spooky double feature, where Dawson’s new film had aired right before the latest instalment in a slasher franchise. Pacey and Gretchen had both agreed that Dawson’s film was the superior one, but as Pacey re-watched it, he kept missing Joey by his side, clutching his arm and burying her face in his shoulder every time it got remotely scary. He had stared at the screen, eating popcorn and trying to convince himself he couldn’t still smell her apple-scented shampoo. 

He blinked, snapping himself back to the present. Gretchen was giving him a far-too-knowing look. 

“What’re you going to do, Pace?”

“About what?” She shot him an irritated look, and he looked down at his hands. “Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.”

“Nothing. I’m going to do nothing. Because you said it yourself, I let her go, now I wait to see if she comes back.”

“Pretty sure that’s not what I said.” 

He shrugged. “It’s what I heard.”

Gretchen rested her head against the seat. “I try not to do this, because I know you hate it, but I’m worried about you. Let me finish,” she said as he tried to interrupt. “It’s a big sister’s prerogative to give a crap, okay? Especially since the rest of our family dropped that ball years ago. You seem...stuck. You’re living a life you never wanted. This life that other people told you was all you’d ever have. I always thought you’d go out there and prove them wrong.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to prove. Maybe they were right.”

“I don’t think they were. And I don’t think you think that, either. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so conflicted.”

“Who’s conflicted?” he asked. “I’m not conflicted.”

“Of course you are. You’re terrified because you fell in love with a woman who’s not going to settle for the life you’ve decided to live. She has goals and dreams and ambitions, and she’s the kind of person who goes out there and achieves them, and who doesn’t let other people’s opinions of her drown out her inner voice. She sounds to me like she’d be good for you, Pace. In fact, she might just be the best thing that ever happened to you. But now you’ve got to be brave enough to take that leap and go after her.”

“And if I’m not brave enough?”

“Then I guess you’ll live the rest of your life never knowing what you might have had.”

“What about you?” Pacey demanded, annoyed by just how good Gretchen was at getting under his skin. “Isn’t that what you’re doing? Settling?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you really still love him?” he asked. He nodded toward the house, where Nick was swigging a beer and watching them. “Or are you just too afraid to admit that you don’t?”

Gretchen’s mouth opened to respond, then slowly closed again. “My relationship with Nick is complicated.” 

“Uh huh.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Behind his sister’s head, Pacey saw Nick step off the porch and come towards them. 

“Try me.”

She frowned, then jumped as Nick tapped on the window behind her. 

“Did all those scary movies get to you?” he teased as Gretchen wound the window down. “Come on inside, the party’s already getting started. Pacey, sure you won’t come in, just for one drink?”

Pacey’s refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but there was something in Gretchen’s eyes that made him pause. Something in the way she’d tensed up when Nick arrived, something in the fact that she’d refused to answer his question. 

“You know what, you’re right.” He unclipped his own seat belt and pulled the key out of the ignition. “Party on, Wayne.”

“They really need to refresh their menu.” 

Joey looked up at David, who was scowling down at the list of food in front of him. 

“What’s wrong with the menu?”

“They’ve been serving the same thing for the past six months.” 

“So? Why mess with something that works?” she asked. “Everything on here is great. Why not have the fettucine? You liked that last time.”

He shrugged, his upper lip curling slightly. “It was fine. Nothing to write home about.” He looked around the restaurant. “I will never understand why this place is so popular.”

_ Because it’s classy yet affordable.  _ David’s passion for tiny portions at exorbitant prices had impressed her when they first started dating, but had long since worn thin with her. It seemed pointless to Joey to spend ridiculous amounts of money to still come home hungry at the end of the night. How many times had she got up after David went to sleep and made toast at midnight to settle the rumbling in her stomach? She thought of Pacey, and how irritated he would be by pretentiously small portions, and a smile crossed her lips before she could suppress it. 

“You’re in a good mood tonight.”

Joey looked at David, wondering how someone who’d known her for so long could read her so poorly. She was a bundle of nerves, and ‘good’ was the last word she’d have used to describe her mood. Before she could say anything in response their waitress arrived, a buxom blonde with dark red lipstick and a bored expression.

“Hello I’m Audrey and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear the specials?” 

She rattled off the introduction at a fast clip, barely taking a breath between sentences. Joey suppressed a smile. She’d done enough waitressing in her time to know how the other woman felt on a busy night like this. 

“No specials, thank you,” David said before Joey could speak. “I’ll have the fettuccine ai funghi porcine. Which of your cabernet sauvignons do you recommend pairing it with?” 

He pronounced the French and Italian words flawlessly, which always impressed the wait staff at his favoured venues, but only made Audrey roll her eyes. She shrugged in response to his question. “I don’t know. They’re all good.”

David pursed his lips. “Would you mind asking the chef? I’ll follow his recommendation.”

“Sure. That’s one Cab sav and a mushroom rav,” she repeated back to him as she scrawled a note on her pad before turning to Joey. “What’ll you have?”

Joey glanced down at her menu. “Um...” 

“Let me guess. The kale and orzo salad, with haloumi?” Joey looked up as he addressed Audrey. “She orders it every time.”

Audrey simpered back at him, then turned to Joey with an impatient look. It had always charmed Joey that David could remember her favourite dishes at each restaurant they attended. It wasn’t that hard, she supposed, since she had a tendency to stick with what she knew she liked. She was _ that _ person who ordered pad thai at every single Thai restaurant she went to, just because she already knew she’d like it. Just further proof she didn’t know how to be spontaneous.

“Actually, I think I’m in the mood for something different tonight.” She directed her gaze toward Audrey, who was waiting with her pencil poised over her notepad. “What do you recommend?”

The waitress shrugged. “Fish of the day is salmon, and the maple glaze is absolutely to die for.”

“Sounds divine,” Joey said, closing her menu.

David shook his head. “Darling, you know that salmon gives you heartburn.”

“Only if it’s smoked,” Joey replied, still looking at Audrey. “This is fresh, right?’

The other woman nodded, her eyes locked onto Joey’s. An understanding seemed to pass between them, and Joey felt strengthened by Audrey’s self-possessed confidence. 

“Fresh off the boat this morning,” she attested.

Joey’s mind flickered back to Pacey, his bare feet stretched out in front of him, one hand on his fishing line as he listened to her read, while the True Love bobbed on the brilliant blue ocean.

“Perfect.” She passed her menu to Audrey, who took it with a supportive nod. 

“Coming right up.”

“She just halved her tip,” David asked, watching Audrey leave with narrowed eyes. 

“I liked her,” Joey said, taking a sip of water. 

“She was rude and unprofessional.” David sighed and leaned back in his chair. “So, tell me more about your trip. I hear Cape Cod is beautiful at this time of the year.”

Joey grasped onto the subject as a chance to make small talk, fidgeting under the table as she described Capeside to him. She knew she should just speak her truth, should rip the band-aid off, but she didn’t want to break up with him in public. David was a very private person, and she didn’t want to cause him any more pain than was completely necessary. Not to mention that her own second hand embarrassment at being a public spectacle would probably make her back down and be unable to go through with it. She had to wait until they were back in their apartment, just the two of them alone. And then she’d have to hope that he wouldn’t kick her out right away, because she had nowhere else to go. 

The rest of dinner passed in a blur. The salmon arrived and was delicious, the maple glaze as divine as Audrey had promised it would be, but Joey was so nervous that she could barely eat it. David was dissatisfied with his fettuccine, claiming that it wasn’t as flavorful as the last time he’d tried it, and he called Audrey over to ask whether the recipe had been changed. 

“Not that I’m aware of,” she replied. 

“Well, it was significantly tastier last time.” David laid down his fork and nudged the bowl toward her. “I think I’ll have the lobster bisque, instead.”

Audrey glared at him. “But there’s nothing wrong with the fettuccine.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever heard the expression  _ The customer is always right _ ?” 

“Enough times to know it’s not true,” Audrey snapped back. She picked his dish up off the table and swung her head around to face Joey. “Is your salmon okay, or should I take that back to the kitchen too? Maybe you’d like the kale salad instead?” 

Joey swallowed her mouthful of the soft pink fish, and shook her head. “The salmon is perfect. Thank you.”

Audrey sniffed, gave her a brief nod, and left. David shook his head in disgust.

“Darling, I know you like the food here, but if that’s the kind of service we’ll be getting, we’re never coming back.”

“Relax, David. She’s not that bad.” Joey took a sip of wine to fortify herself. “Let it go.”

“I will not let it go. She’s incredibly unprofessional,” he grumbled. “I wonder if her manager is aware of just how rude she is.” He looked across at Joey, who was picking at her salmon. “I’m sorry. You know how bad service bothers me.”

“I do.”

“You’re in HR. It must bother you, too.”

“Not really. I’ve also been a waitress,” she reminded him. “I know what this industry can be like. It’s not an easy job, keeping customers satisfied. Especially picky ones like you,” she added with a smile.

Conversation lulled after that, until Joey asked him about the case he was working on, and he started to tell her all about it. Sometimes she found his detailed dissections of the intricacies of the law fascinating, but this wasn’t one of those nights. As he waxed on and on about commercial property law, Joey felt her irritation rising. How had she stayed with this man for so long? The looks that Audrey was shooting her across the restaurant made it clear that she was wondering the same thing.

Joey knew she had to say something, but she couldn’t get the words out. Every time she tried, her tongue twisted up inside her mouth, refusing to form coherent words, much less a sentence. Eventually, she placed her napkin onto the table and pushed her chair back. 

“Excuse me for a moment.”

He frowned at her. “Everything okay?”

“I just need to use the restroom.” 

Joey bolted from her chair, weaving between tables in the restaurant on her way to the bathroom. As she passed the swinging doors that led into the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of the kitchen staff. They were working hard, but there were smiles and laughter amongst them. Years ago, she’d been on that side of the doors, working until her feet blistered, plastering on a veneer of insincere politeness in front of the customers and swearing like a sailor behind the scenes, all the time telling herself that someday she’d be on the other side. Now that she was there, she missed the camaraderie that developed between people working hard in a busy environment.

The doors swung open and Audrey came out, looking back over her shoulder at someone still in the kitchen. 

“You wish you could take me, Steve!” 

She turned around and collided with Joey, who couldn’t get out of her way fast enough. The bowl of lobster bisque Audrey was carrying slopped over the rim and down the side of Joey’s dark blue dress. 

“Oh, shit!” Audrey’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Joey apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”

Joey looked down at the creamy liquid splashed down the leg of her dress. “Uh, it’s okay. I was just headed to the restroom. I’m sure it’ll come out.”

“Are you sure? I can help you if you want.”

“I’m fine, really.” Joey smiled reassuringly and headed for the rest room, while Audrey returned to the kitchen to re-plate what was presumably David’s replacement meal. 

Joey was mopping at the bisque on her dress when the waitress came in with a clean cloth and a bowl of warm water. 

“Hey, I brought you this. It’s got white vinegar in it, so it’s going to stink, but it’ll help get the stain out.” She squeezed out the cloth and held it out to Joey, who tossed the disintegrating paper towels into the trash and took the cloth gratefully from Audrey. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I poured food on you. It’s the least I could do.” She leaned against the sink and watched Joey wipe carefully at the mark. “Do you think it’ll stain?”

Joey shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out.”

“Well, no offence, but it’s no great loss,” Audrey said bluntly. “That dress looks like something your grandmother bought for you.”

Joey stared at her, taken aback by her bluntness, then turned to face her reflection in the mirror. “It does?”

“Yeah. Why such a high neckline?” Audrey asked. “You’ve got boobs, girl. Show them off.”

Joey glanced down at her breasts, her face flushing. “There’s not much there to show,” she muttered. 

“Oh, please. All you need is a good push-up bra and some better clothes,” the other woman insisted. “Go like this.” She put her hands under her own ample breasts and pushed them up in demonstration. “See the difference? You do it.”

Joey laughed, then tossed the cloth into the bowl and did as Audrey said. 

“See? And then if your waistline was lower...” Audrey stepped behind Joey and pulled the fabric of her dress tighter against her hips, accentuating her slim figure. “See what I mean?”

As Joey started to nod, one of the cubicle doors swung open and a woman in her sixties came out. She eyed the two of them suspiciously as she went to the basin to wash her hands, and Joey dropped her hands from her breasts self-consciously as Audrey let go of her dress. The woman shot them one last look before she left the room, and Audrey burst out laughing. Joey joined her in her mirth, and they both laughed until they could barely stand, hands braced against the washbasins as their shoulders shook.

“Wait ‘til she goes and tells my manager. I am so fired.” 

“I’ll vouch for you.” Joey looked again at the wet mark on her dress. “I think that's as cleaned up as it’s going to get. Thanks again, Audrey.”

The blonde woman waved a dismissive hand. “Least I could do for you, uh....” 

“Joey.”

“Joey.” She tipped out the vinegar water as Joey headed for the door. “Hey, thanks for being so nice about this.”

“I waitressed all through college,” Joey told her. “I know what it’s like when a customer is being difficult.”

“Can I ask you something?” Audrey asked. “And you can tell me to mind my own beeswax, but why are you with him?” 

“Excuse me?”

“I know, I know, it’s not my place to ask and all that, but I really have to know. There’s no way a guy that self-obsessed is any good in the sack, so...” She raised her eyebrows. “I mean, I’m assuming he’s loaded.”

Joey’s anger bubbled up inside her, but she fought it back down.  “I’m not with him for his money,” she said sharply. 

“No? Then why?”

“Because he’s a nice person.”

Audrey scoffed. “He’s an ass, and you know it. I saw how embarrassed you were when he was insulting the fettucine.”

“I wasn’t--” She broke off as she met Audrey’s disbelieving stare. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was a  _ little  _ embarrassed. But I’m not with David because he has money.”  _ Or because he gave me a job, and lets me live in a nice apartment without paying rent.  _ She told herself that, hoping it was true.

“Are you in love with him?” 

Joey shook her head, folding her arms defensively across her stomach. “Can you keep a secret?"

Audrey grinned. "Are you kidding? You can tell me anything. I'll never say a word."

Somehow, Joey doubted it, but she told Audrey the truth anyway. "I was actually planning to break up with him tonight.” 

Audrey’s eyes flashed in amusement. “Really?”

“Yeah. Only he’d already made this reservation, and he would’ve been so disappointed if we hadn’t come…” Her voice trailed off as Audrey shook her head. 

“Girl, if you’re going to break up with him, just do it. The longer you put it off, the less likely you are to go through with it.”

“I’m going to do it.” Joey made her voice certain.

“That’s it. Embrace your inner ice queen,” Audrey encouraged her. “Now. Stand up straight,” she said, motioning to Joey to correct her habitually slumping posture. “Get your chin up, eyes forward, go out there and break his little heart. Just know I’ll be watching from the kitchen, cheering you on.”

“Will that be before or after you’re done spitting in the bisque?”

Audrey grinned. “You really  _ have _ been a waitress.” 

Joey shook her head and turned to leave. 

“Hey, Joey? One more thing.”

Joey turned and looked behind her. “What’s that?”

“You have to burn that dress. Even if the stain  _ does _ come out. With a body like yours, you owe it to yourself to dress better than that.”

Joey made it back to the table, where David was eating his bisque with a dissatisfied expression.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Joey’s stomach was twisting itself into such knots that she could barely speak. She picked up her fork, trying to decide how to start.  _ Just start. Say something.  _ Joey took a deep breath. 

“David, I--” 

She looked up slowly, intending to meet his eyes, but her vision stopped at the sight of a dark blue velvet box. He was holding it in his hands, and as she stared, wide-eyed, he flipped it open to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. 

“Will you marry me, Joey?”

Joey’s heart thumped painfully in her chest as she stared at him, her mouth gaping open like a fish. He was doing this  _ now _ ? How many times had she gone to brunch with Maggie and heard her ask the question  _ Has he asked you to marry him yet? _ and had to give a negative answer? How often had she played off her disappointment, telling Maggie she was happy to wait, that it was important that they were certain about how they felt before they committed to anything? As it turned out, David’s previous reluctance to propose might have been the best thing that ever happened to her. If he’d asked her a month ago, she would’ve said yes right away, and then she’d be in an even bigger mess than she was right now.

“Say something, Joey.” He smiled gently. “You’re overwhelmed, I know. But it’s been four years. I’d hoped that you would have suspected this was coming.”

“I--”

“Here.” He reached for her hand, took it in his own and drew it toward him. Joey fought the impulse to snatch it away. She didn’t want to make a scene. A quick glance around the restaurant revealed that several other patrons had already noticed his proposal, and were watching them with interest, murmuring amongst themselves, smiling in anticipation. 

_ Please god, don’t let there be anyone here that I know.  _

As David slid the ring onto her finger with a satisfied smile, Joey felt her guts twist. She knew this was wrong. Not only because she wasn’t in love with David - and she knew now, for certain, that she wasn’t - but because he’d never waited for her to say yes. He’d just made an assumption, again, about how she felt. 

And he was wrong. Again. 

“David, I--”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the diamond ring. Joey stared down at it, really seeing it for the first time. The diamond was the centrepiece on a rose gold band, encircled with smaller pale pink diamonds. It was showy, and far too gaudy for her taste. It wasn’t that the ring wasn’t beautiful. It just wasn’t... _ her _ . 

“I love you, Joey.” 

She winced at his declaration of love, recalling those same words being spoken to her by another man just twenty-four hours earlier. How could it be that a man she barely knew had sounded more convincing than the man she’d been with for four years? 

_ Because Pacey sees you. He loves you. Not just his idea of you.  _

From the corner of her eye, Joey saw sparks, and she turned her head to see Audrey approaching their table with a heart-shaped chocolate dessert in her hands. Two lit sparklers had been inserted in the top of it, and right behind her was a waiter holding a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. He looked excited, but Audrey looked as if she’d been sent to witness an execution.

David glanced at them, then back at Joey. “Uh, I may have orchestrated this while you were in the bathroom,” he admitted sheepishly. “I wanted to do something special.”

Joey forced herself to smile. His heart was in the right place, and now half of the restaurant was watching Audrey’s progress toward them. Joey knew she couldn’t marry David. It wouldn’t be fair on either of them if her heart wasn’t in it. But she couldn’t tell him now. She didn’t want to make a scene. 

Then, out of the blue, Audrey made one for her. As she reached the table, she tripped, and the chocolate dessert fell onto the table. Well, most of it did. Some hit the floor, and a large portion fell right into David’s lap.

“Oh, would you look at that!” Audrey cried, throwing her hands up in dismay as David shot her a look of utter horror. “I am _so_ sorry.” She glanced at Joey, who stared back at her, wide-eyed. _Run_ , Audrey mouthed, then turned back to David. “How could I be so clumsy? Are you okay?” She grabbed a napkin off the table and started to dab at his jacket. David snatched it from her hand. 

“Stop touching me! You’ve done enough.” He stood up, tossing the napkin onto the table. “That’s it. We’re leaving. This is the last time I will ever come to this restaurant, and I’ll be telling all of my friends the same. The service is abominable and the food is average at best.”

Everyone in the restaurant was looking at them now, and Joey slumped down into her seat, wishing she could just disappear. 

“Lucky us,” Audrey shouted back at him, her temper getting the better of her. “We don’t want you here anyway, because people like you make me--”

They didn’t get to hear the rest of her sentence, because her co-worker abandoned the champagne onto a nearby table and with the help of another server, they dragged Audrey back into the kitchen, one hand clamped over her mouth as she attempted to continue her tirade. 

The doors swung shut behind them as the hostess came rushing over amidst a hubbub of noise. Everyone in the restaurant was now staring at them, and Joey wanted the floor to open up beneath her and suck her down. David was demanding to speak to the manager, and began haggling with the hostess over how much of their meal he should be expected to pay for. Joey had had enough. She stood up, grabbing her purse and wrap off the back of her chair.

“I’ll meet you outside,” she told David as she brushed past him. 

He looked at her apologetically. “I”m sorry, Joey. This shouldn’t have happened, tonight of  _ all  _ nights.” 

He shook his head, then returned his attention to the manager as she walked to the door and stepped outside. It was a muggy evening in Boston, the thick summer heat still laying low over the city. Joey leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to take herself back to Capeside, back to the fresh salt air and the blanket of stars overhead. Back to Pacey’s arm around her, his fingertips running across her bare skin, his smile lighting up the night.

“What part of  _ run  _ didn’t you understand?”

Joey opened her eyes to see Audrey walking towards her with a bag over her shoulder. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“No kidding. Maybe if I hadn’t, I’d still have a job.”

Joey frowned. “They fired you?”

“Are you actually surprised?” Audrey responded. “Come on, Joey. I dumped dessert in your fiance’s lap.”

“He’s not my fiance.”

“That rock on your finger implies otherwise.”

Joey looked down at the enormous ring. “I didn't say yes.”

“You didn’t say no, either. Clearly.”

“He didn’t exactly give me the chance.”

“Which is  _ another  _ giant red flag. So again I ask, what part of  _ run  _ are you struggling with?”

Joey frowned. “Where am I supposed to go?” 

“Are you broke?” Audrey pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and stuck one in her mouth, then lit it. Joey wrinkled her nose. 

“No.”

“So go to a hotel.” Audrey turned her head slightly and exhaled a plume of smoke. “I’d invite you to stay with me, but I don't think my roommate would approve. She can be kind of uptight.” 

“You, living with an uptight person? Can’t imagine that.”

“It’s a whole Felix and Oscar situation. I’m the neat one, of course.”

“Of course.” Joey grinned, then remembered Audrey’s earlier revelation. “I’m really sorry about your job.”

“Don’t be. I was going to quit anyway. The manager’s a bitch.”

Joey still felt terrible. She reached into her purse. “At least let me give you a tip. A girl’s still got to make rent, right?”

“I don’t need your charity.” Audrey shook her head before taking another long pull on her cigarette. “Maybe it’s time for a career change, anyway.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea,” Joey said. “You were a pretty terrible waitress.”

Audrey gasped. “Rude.” Her eyes danced with amusement. “I mean, true. But rude.” Her eyes shifted again to the ring on Joey’s finger. “So, are you going to tell him when he comes out here, or are you going to wait until you’re back in your apartment to break it off?”

Joey sighed. “How do I get myself into these situations? Why didn’t I just say no right then and there?” 

Audrey chuckled as she exhaled another stream of smoke in Joey’s direction. “I don’t know you very well, Joey, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re kind of a doormat.”

Joey’s jaw dropped. “Now who’s being rude?”

“So you don’t want to marry the guy. Why not just tell him?”

“Just tell him,” Joey repeated. “Just like that.”

“Yeah. Just say  _ thanks but no thanks _ , then get your skinny butt out of there. Or you could chuck the ring back at him and say  _ I’d rather die alone than spend another night with you _ , but if you’re going to go with that option, please do it right here so I can witness it.”

Joey fought back a smile. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because we live together. In  _ his _ apartment. And we work together. At the law firm where he’s a partner. There’s nothing simple about breaking this off.”

“Hmm. Sounds to me like he’s got you right where he wants you. But what you’ve gotta decide is where  _ you  _ want to be.”

Before Joey could answer, the door swung open and David came out. He scowled at the sight of Audrey, who smiled widely and blew cigarette smoke in his direction. 

David held his arm out to Joey, who swallowed uneasily but took it. Audrey sighed. 

“Well, see ya Joey. Have a nice life, or marriage, or whatever.”

She turned and walked away, hips swaying, and Joey watched her leave, wishing she had one-tenth of the woman’s self-confidence. 

It was a three-block walk back to their apartment. The ring on her finger felt like a lead weight, dragging her down with each step she took. Joey mentally berated herself for her weak decision-making. She wished she could go back to the start of the evening, wished she’d told him the truth as soon as he’d walked through the door. He’d have been devastated, of course, but he’d have saved face. He could’ve returned the ring, pretended he’d never intended to ask her anyway. She’d never have known how uneven their relationship was. She wasn't in love with him, hadn’t been for a very long time, even if she was only just realising it now.

The longer this went on, the worse it was going to get. Joey had to do it, and she had to do it now. Steeling herself, she stopped walking. 

“David, I can’t do this.”

He turned back to face her, his expression filled with anxiety and confusion. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand. I thought this was what you wanted.”

“I did. I thought I did. But being with you, it just... it doesn’t feel right.”

“Doesn’t feel right?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Joey, listen to yourself. We’ve been together for four years.” His voice was low as he leaned toward her, a red flush spreading up his neck. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does. You know it does. I just...I don’t think I can do this.” Tears sprang to her eyes and her throat closed up, thickening her words. “I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine between us.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, drawing her closer to the side of the building. “Everything  _ was  _ fine between us, until you went to stay with your sister,” he countered. “Did she put you up to this? Has she got into your head and convinced you that we’re wrong for each other?” He shook his head. “I knew I should never have let you go down there.”

Joey blinked up at him. “ _ Let  _ me?” she repeated. “That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“I could’ve kept you here with work, but I was trying to do something nice,” he said, as though she should be thanking him for the favor. “I don’t understand where this doubt is coming from. You and I make sense together. We both want the same things from life. At least, I thought we did.” 

“I thought so, too.”

“So what’s changed?” 

Joey looked down, unable to meet his eyes. Why did this have to be so hard? She hated the anguished look on his face. Hated herself for putting it there. But it had to be done - for both their sakes.

“Joey, please.” He took hold of her hands, his thumb caressing her knuckles, almost snagging on the enormous ring. “I’m sorry that I sprung this on you. Clearly it’s upset you, and that was the last thing I intended.” He glanced around at the passersby, none of whom were paying them the least bit of attention. “Let’s just put this all on hold for now, okay? We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

She had to say it. Lifting her chin, Joey looked him in the eyes. “I can’t marry you, David.” 

“But...why not?” He shook his head, his grip on her hands tightening, his agitation rising. “Why are you doing this to me, Joey? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“No! Of course not. I never intended to do this, I just--”

“What you  _ intended _ doesn’t provide me any solace!” he snapped. “I can’t believe this. And on the very night that I--” He looked down at her hand, the engagement ring flashing on her finger, and dropped both of her hands. “Don’t bother coming home tonight. I can’t even stand to look at you right now.” 

David spun on his heel and practically ran away from her, quickly disappearing into the crowded street. Joey leaned back against the wall, tears filling her eyes. She felt awful about what she’d done, but she'd had to do it. She’d gone and blown up her entire life, the perfect life she’d worked so hard to create, the one she’d dreamed about since she was a teenager. Blown it to smithereens, on a wish and a prayer and the possibility of a future with a man she barely knew, who barely had two pennies to rub together, who lived on a boat and for all she knew, might spend the rest of his life refusing to leave the small town where he’d been born and raised. What if he wouldn’t go? Could she really spend the rest of her life in sleepy Capeside, just to be with Pacey? 

Joey wiped her eyes and straightened up. She didn’t know the answer to that question, but she did know that she didn’t love David, and as a result, she couldn’t in good conscience have married him. She had done one thing right, at least. With a heavy heart, she slipped the engagement ring off her finger and dropped it into her purse, then snapped it shut. 

Alone, she turned around and started walking back the way she came.

“So, Pacey. Tell me about yourself.”

The pretty red-head sat facing him, her arm resting on the back of the couch and legs tucked underneath her as she sipped her drink. 

He shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”

Pacey could smell the vodka on her breath, and knew she was drunk. She wasn’t alone in that. He’d been drinking for a while, ever since he’d got out of the Jeep and gone into Gretchen’s house, and Nick had handed him a beer and given him a slap on the back. Pacey had switched to spirits a while ago, and his mind was entering the numb, foggy oblivion that he was seeking. 

The young woman was smiling at him, so he smiled back. She was pretty. Pretty wasted, too. But so was he. Wasted, at least. He knew he wasn’t pretty. He’d been overcompensating for his average looks ever since he’d been a kid, when he’d overheard his mother say that he was “cute enough for a kid, but he’ll never be as handsome as his big brother”. She hadn’t intended him to overhear that -- or maybe she had, he never knew with her. 

Pacey had grown up knowing he was ordinary. He’d never been able to attract female attention, at least not until Tamara had walked into his life. He’d thought that he loved her. Back then, he supposed that he had, in his own distorted way. He hadn’t known much about love, and she’d offered him attention and comfort and passion. She’d told him that he was special, that he was sexy, and had wanted to be with him so badly that she’d been prepared to break the law and risk everything. Surely that meant it was something real, right? Joey’s angry retorts fired through his head as he thought about Tamara, but he couldn't remember exactly what she’d said. All he remembered was her pulling him in for a hug and whispering in his ear.  _ You poor boy.  _

He wished he’d known Joey back then. He wished he’d known her forever. He could've used her in his life, growing up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have made so many mistakes. 

Then again, he hadn’t done everything wrong. When he’d met Andie, he’d fallen in love in a completely different way. She’d needed him in a way that nobody had ever needed him before, and she’d seen potential in him. She’d pushed him to challenge his preconceptions about himself, had inspired him to change and improve his life, and he’d fallen head over heels in love with her as a result. He had placed her on a pedestal, had adored her with every breath in his body, and done everything in his power to live up to the person she wanted him to be. He’d done his very best, but it hadn’t been enough, and she’d fallen to pieces, despite his best attempts to hold her together. After she’d left, the facade of the new and improved Pacey had vanished like the mirage it always was.

The woman sitting next to him was running her hand through his hair. Her name was Carla, or Carly, or possibly Kayla. He wasn’t sure. Did it matter? Probably not. She was a friend of Gretchen’s. She worked in Hartford. Her hand was sliding down to the back of his neck, and then her lips were on his. He could taste the vodka on her breath, and he slid his tongue willingly into her mouth, desperately seeking the passion he’d felt with Joey, less than twenty-four hours earlier. It wasn’t there, but Carla or Kayla was moving closer, climbing into his lap, running her hand across his chest and slipping it underneath his shirt. Pacey sighed, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close, so her breasts were pressing against him, and he could tangle his own fingers through her long red hair. 

“Get a room, you two!” He felt a hand slap the back of his head, and Pacey broke off the kiss as someone - he thought it was Nick - walked behind him. 

“Do you have a room?” the woman asked him, looking at him through lowered lashes. There were clumps of mascara at the edges of her eyes, and she had a tiny stud in her nose that glittered in the soft light. 

“Uh...I think so.” Through the drunken haze, he recalled something about Riley being away. Not that he knew which room was his, but this wasn’t a big house. He was sure he could figure it out. 

“Then let’s go.” She stood up and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. 

Pacey slung his arm around her shoulders and they made their way to the staircase. Gretchen was coming down as they walked up, and she baulked at the sight of them. 

“Kayla, Pacey -- what are you doing?”

The red-head grinned. “What’s it look like?”

Gretchen leaned in with a frown. “That’s my little brother you’ve got your hands all over.”

Kayla ran her hand up the back of Pacey’s neck, making him shiver. “He doesn’t look that little to me.” 

Pacey could feel Gretchen’s eyes on him, asking what the hell he was doing when he’d spent that day confessing his love for another woman. Guiltily, he started to peel his arm off Kayla’s shoulders when Nick appeared behind him at the bottom of the stairs. 

“There you are,” he said to Gretchen. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Stop cockblocking your brother and come party with me.”

Pacey watched his sister hesitate for a moment. Then she pushed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled at Nick, and walked downstairs to be with him. Kayla started moving again, her warm hand pulling Pacey along behind her, and he stopped thinking and followed her up the stairs. 

Joey sat on the bed in the hotel room, staring at the wall. She’d walked back to Civilization, half-expecting to bump into Audrey again along the way, but there’d been no sign of the buxom blond. When her strappy pumps had started to blister her heels, she’d turned to the nearest hotel and booked a room for the night. 

At least now she had somewhere to sleep, but she didn’t know what to do next. She felt unmoored, a boat bobbing at sea without ropes or anchors, able to go wherever the winds and tides might take her. Joey had planned out her entire life, had known exactly what she wanted since she was young, and now, on a whim and a rush of lusty emotion, she’d thrown it all away.  She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was at a fork in the road, the kind of fork she’d never reached before. 

_ A fork in the road.  _ A memory flickered in the back of her mind, taking her back across the years to a carnival in the middle of summer, walking down the midway with her father. She was twe lve years old, and it was just the two of them that night. Bessie had stayed at home with their mom, who’d just started chemo. Joey had wanted to stay with her mom too, but her dad insisted that she go out and enjoy herself. He’d spoiled her rotten, taking her on all the rides, buying her cotton candy and cheering her on as she won a plastic pony on the ring toss game. When they’d come across a fortune teller’s tent, her steps had slowed, her curiosity piqued. She didn’t believe in psychics, of course, but her dad had pressed five dollars into her hand and told her to find out what her future held. Joey had stepped inside the tent, dim and filled with sweet-smelling incense, and sat down in front of a woman who had waved her hands over a fake-looking crystal ball and told her the same generic crap that she probably said to everyone. That a tall, dark man would some day lead her to a crossroads, and she’d have to follow her heart to know which path to take. She’d scowled at the woman, thinking to herself that she’d just wasted five bucks of her dad’s hard-earned cash. 

Afterwards, she’d told her father that  _ he _ was the only tall dark man she’d ever need, and he’d put his arm around her and told her that he’d always be there for her, no matter what. And little Joey Potter had believed him. Two years later, she’d discovered that he was dealing drugs from their home, that the small amounts of marijuana that he’d always partaken in had become something far more serious and sinister. She’d stood at the crossroad and looked down both paths - the one where she narced on him and he was sent to prison, and the one where she kept her mouth shut and hoped for the best. That first path was never really an option, of course. Not for her. For better or for worse, she loved her father. But she would never trust him again.

Some said that women looked for men who reminded them of their fathers, but Joey had made a point of doing the opposite. David didn’t have any of the charm that her father had possessed. Mike Potter could’ve sold ice to a polar bear, but David’s quiet, almost naive sincerity had appealed to her from the start. What you saw was what you got with him, something she’d found incredibly reassuring in a chaotic world of people saying one thing and meaning another. 

She still remembered the first time they’d met. She’d just finished an interview for an internship, which she hadn’t thought had gone particularly well. Despite graduating near the top of her class at Yale, Joey hadn’t had any luck finding work. Every place she applied to either claimed that she needed more work experience, or was too highly qualified for an internship. It was a Catch-22, and she was running out of time. Her rent was due at the end of the week, and her part-time waitressing gig was barely allowing her to make ends meet. She was coming perilously close to having to call Bessie and ask for a cash loan, and the thought of doing that made her shudder. 

She’d been standing in front of the elevators, waiting for one to arrive so she could disappear into it when David had walked up next to her. She’d smiled politely at him, and he’d smiled back kindly and introduced himself. They rode down in the elevator together, and she’d told him why she was there, and he had wished her luck with the internship. She’d liked him, thought he was attractive in a generic, well-groomed kind of way, but she hadn’t thought much more about him until she’d received the call to say she got the position. The woman on the phone had told her that she made quite an impression, and she’d gone to bed thinking that maybe some of her father’s charm had rubbed off on her, after all. She’d later learned from her manager that David had personally petitioned for her employment. She’d been surprised and a little flattered, but the knowledge had also made her uneasy. Determined to prove that she deserved the opportunity on her own merits, she’d poured everything she had into the internship, working overtime and weekends, taking on extra work at every opportunity, and had been relieved when it had soon turned into a permanent job. She had avoided David for the first few months, determined to quash any potential gossip about the reason for her hire, and also for her own protection. The last thing Joey wanted was to get involved in an office romance.

But David had always been very professional with her, so much so that she’d sometimes wondered if her manager had been telling her lies. He was also very kind, and patient, and forgiving of mistakes - of which she made a few. She’d been increasingly drawn to him, had found herself having conversations over coffee in the staff room, conversations which started out short and got longer every time. She’d work late, and he’d still be there when she left, and one night she’d run into him at the photocopier and he’d overheard her stomach rumbling. She’d fled back to her desk, embarrassed, but half an hour later, he’d had Thai takeout delivered to her office. He’d joined her, and they’d eaten together, then sat and talked until it was almost midnight. Too late to go home on the T, so he’d called her a cab and paid for it, and she’d arrived home feeling as if someone out there cared, and wanted to take care of her. Joey’s fierce independence that she’d worn as armour for so long gained a small chink in it as she realised that she liked having someone looking after her. Maybe she didn’t have to do it all alone, and maybe she didn’t want to. 

Her feelings for him had developed from there, but they’d kept it professional until one afternoon when she’d been filling out an ID application for him, and had realised there was nothing on file stating his eye colour. Using it as an excuse to go and see him, she’d gone up to his office and knocked on his door. She remembered her knees shaking as he called her inside, recalled the warm look on his face as she’d walked right up to him and leaned in close, staring straight into his eyes. 

“Green,” she’d told him. “You have green eyes.”

“Yes, I do.”

And then he’d reached up and touched her hair, drawn her in closer, and kissed her, and she’d let him. After a moment, she’d kissed him back. They snuck around for a while, pretending that nothing was going on between them as their feelings for one another intensified. It had all come to a head when a jealous co-worker had discovered their relationship, and had pulled her aside and threatened to expose them to the entire firm. Terrified for the future of her career, Joey had gone to David and tried to break things off. Instead, he’d immediately sent the co-worker packing (complete with a hefty severance package and a watertight NDA), then had announced their relationship to the entire firm, telling anyone who had a problem with it to take their complaints to HR, where Joey would be certain to file those complaints straight into the trash. 

Joey’s face still burned at the memory of that day. David hadn’t told her what he’d been intending, and she’d felt blindsided by the public declaration of their relationship. She’d been relieved to keep her job, but had walked around the office in a state of perpetual embarrassment for weeks afterward, certain that everyone was talking about her. It wasn’t all in her head. Some of her colleagues, people she’d considered friends, had stopped wanting to socialise with her. They’d thought she was sleeping her way to the top, or that she was only after David for his money, and she’d found herself excluded from after work drinks and gatherings. Joey had buried her head in her paperwork and continued trying to prove herself, working long, relentless hours, taking on the workload of two employees, completely forsaking any attempts at a work/life balance. Her time away from work, her vacations and holidays, all of them had revolved around David. He’d made the decisions about when and where they went, who they were with, what they did.

Looking back, Joey wondered why she hadn’t seen it before. In her desperate attempts to show the world that she was more than just her relationship with David, she’d become nothing else. 

She rubbed her eyes with her fists, knowing she was smearing her makeup beyond repair, unable to bring herself to give a damn, and thought of Pacey. From the moment she’d first seen him, when he’d turned around to face her at the Ice House counter, she’d felt as though he saw her. Not the impression she’d been trying to make, but the person she was underneath all that. Nobody had seen her like that in years. It stunned her to think that if she’d walked in a different direction, if she hadn’t turned down that side street and discovered the Ice House, or had changed her mind about going inside, she might never have met him. She wouldn’t be here right now, lying on a hotel room bed with an engagement ring in her purse that would never return to her finger. She’d never have done this, any of it, if it weren’t for him. He’d challenged her, encouraged her, made her braver than she’d ever been. 

But they hadn’t exactly left things on a good note, and she had no idea what a relationship with him would even be like. What if she went back and it turned out that they couldn’t make this work? That all they ever did was fight? They’d had one argument and it had left her heartbroken, crying her eyes out on her sister’s porch. Was she strong enough to put her heart on the line every day, to risk that happening to her again, and again? If it hurt that badly after only a couple of weeks, how much worse would it be after months, or even years?

She wanted to talk to him, but she didn’t have his phone number, and she knew he wasn’t working that night. For all she knew, he might still be in Hartford, visiting his sister. 

She missed her sister, but it was too late to call her, in case she woke the baby. Joey considered hiring a car and driving herself to Capeside, but she knew she was too tired, and as little as she wanted to, she had to go to work tomorrow and face David. That wasn’t something she could do over the phone. 

Just as she had that thought, her cell phone rang. Pushing herself back into a sitting position, Joey rummaged through her purse and pulled it out to check the caller ID. Smiling, she answered.

“I was just thinking about calling you, but I didn’t want to wake Alexander.”

“Too late. He’s wide awake. He’s right here, in fact, if you want to talk to him. Alex, say hi to your Aunt Joey.” The sound of Bessie’s voice over the phone reminded Joey of those first few weeks in college, when she’d called her sister every night to check in. Then every other night, then once a week, and then their connection had faded as she’d settled into college life, and hadn’t needed her sister anymore. Or so she’d told herself, anyway. 

“Hi sweet boy. You need to go to sleep now, okay?”

She heard a gurgling noise, then Bessie chuckled. “He says no way, Jose.”

“He’s speaking Spanish already?”

“He’s a smart kid.”

“I know he is,” Joey said with a grin. “Give him a big cuddle for me.”

“Already on it,” Bessie assured her. “So, did you do it? Did you break up with David?”

Joey sighed. “The fact that I’m sitting in a hotel room right now would imply that yes, I did.”

She heard Bessie exhale. “How’d he take it?”

“Badly. He proposed to me, Bessie.”

“What?” Her sister’s shriek prompted a short wail from Alexander, and there were rustles and murmurs from her end of the phone as she handed him over to Bodie. “Wait, let me get this straight. You told him it was over and he  _ proposed _ ?”

“No.” Joey dropped her head into one hand. “I chickened out of telling him right away, and he insisted on taking me out to dinner, and right when I was about to say something, he proposed.” 

Bessie laughed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh, but wow. That guy is the prince of bad timing.”

“Tell me about it. And you haven’t even heard the whole story.”

Joey recounted the evening for her sister, giving her the full blow-by-blow. Bessie ended with a heavy sigh. In the background, Alexander was crying again.

“You’ve had quite a night, huh?”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Well, at least it’s over.”

“For now. I still have to go back to the apartment, get my belongings. Find somewhere else to live. Figure out if I can keep my job, and if I even want to.”

“You know, I think that waitress was right. He had you exactly where he wanted you. Completely dependent on him.”

“Not completely. I got out, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. And I’m proud of you. Do you need help moving your things?”

Joey smiled. “I appreciate the offer, Bess, but I can’t expect you to come and help me pack. You have a newborn at home.”

“I’m so glad you reminded me. I was in danger of forgetting,” Bessie quipped as the sound of Alexander crying started up again. “I wasn’t going to come myself. I was going to send you a white knight in a moving van.”

“Bodie?”

“You know that’s not who I’m talking about.” Joey bit her lip as Alexander’s wails grew louder. “Bodie, take him in the other room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You should go.”

“You’ll call me if you need me, right?”

“You know I will.” 

“Good.” Alexander’s cries eased slightly, and Bessie stayed on the line. “Where’s the ring now?”

“In my purse.”

“You’re going to give it back, right?”

“Of course. I’ll do it tomorrow. I do still have to go into work,” Joey said with a heavy heart.

“Oof. That could be awkward.” 

“Oh, it will be. But--” Before Joey could finish her sentence, Alexander’s wails hit full volume. Joey winced, holding the phone away from her ear, glad she wasn’t there. The thin walls of Bessie’s house would be vibrating with the sound. 

Bessie practically shouted to make herself heard. “Jo, can I talk to you tomorrow? I need to save Bodie’s eardrums from permanent hearing loss.”

“Of course. I love you, Bess.”

“Love you too.”

The phone line went dead. Joey sat and stared at it for a while longer. The battery was almost depleted, and she didn’t have her charger with her. She didn’t have anything with her, not even a change of underwear or clothes. Didn’t have her toothbrush, or a makeup bag, or clothes for work in the morning. She could’ve gone in the dress she was wearing, except that her attempts to remove the lobster bisque from the smooth fabric had proven futile. Joey sighed, and opened her list of contacts. There was one person she knew who would help her out, as little as she wanted to talk to her right now. 

Her mouth was trailing down his body, her lips and tongue finding their way across his bare stomach as her hand slid across the ever-increasing bulge beneath his jeans. Pacey closed his eyes and ran his hands through her long hair, tangling his fingers in her loose curls. She unbuckled his belt, popped the button and unzipped his fly. He should stop her. He didn’t want her to stop. She reached beneath his underwear and grasped his aching cock in her hand, and Pacey groaned. 

“Ooh, I think he likes that.”

Her words hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face. “Stop.”

Kayla looked up at him, blinking in confusion. “What?”

Pacey untangled his fingers from her hair and propped himself up on his elbows. She pouted at him, her hand still down his pants, and the part of his brain that was driven by animal desire shouted at him to shut up and lie back and let her go for it. But the other part of his brain, the part that was still capable of logical, rational thought, fuzzy as it might be when mixed with that much alcohol, that part of his brain told him that this was a bad idea. 

“I can’t do this.”

“Really?” Her hand slid up and down his shaft, and Pacey winced. “ _ Feels _ like you can.” 

He reached down and grasped her wrist. “I don’t  _ want _ to do this.” 

Kayla released him with a frown. “Fine. Whatever.” She sat up, still glaring at him. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I’m sorry.” He sat up fully and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear his thoughts. “I shouldn’t have let you get this far.”

“Duh.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I thought you were into me.”

“I am. At least, I should be. I wish I was. But…”

“There’s someone else,” she guessed. He nodded. “Girlfriend?”

Pacey shook his head. “No. Not yet. Maybe never. I don’t know.” He rested his arms on his bent knees, and buried his face against his elbow. “I’m a mess. I’m sorry.”

He felt her hand on his back, patting him gently. “It’s okay. I came here to forget, too.” He raised his head and she smiled sadly. “Rough break-up.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m better off without him. Or so I keep telling myself.” She sighed. “Well, thanks for nothing, Pacey.”

“You’re welcome?”

She leaned over and softly kissed his cheek before standing up. “I think I’ll just head home, before I make any more mistakes tonight.”

She was a little unsteady on her feet, and Pacey frowned. “Want me to call you a cab?”

Kayla smiled. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

He walked her downstairs, and then outside. Gave her his jacket when she started shivering as they waited on the side of the road, making idle small talk. She told him about her ex, and he listened and wondered how someone so sweet and pretty and intelligent could fall for such a loser. He told her so, and she said he was very kind, and that it was her turn to listen now, so he told her about Joey. About how incredible she was, how beautiful and smart and forthright she was, and how much better he felt about himself when he was with her. When the cab pulled up, she’d slipped his jacket off her shoulders and wished him luck. He’d shrugged into his coat, watching her leave, then looked up at the stars. 

He missed Joey. He missed her so much it felt like someone had amputated a limb from his body. They said when you lost an arm or a leg, you could still feel it, like a ghost limb that your brain hadn’t realised was gone yet. It felt like that. With every breath he took in, Joey was beside him, her arm around his waist, her head leaning against his shoulder. He could feel her as clearly as if she was really there, his arm around her, his fingertips against her ribcage, feeling it expand and contract as she giggled. Then he exhaled, and she was gone, and he was alone.

The music was still thumping in the house behind him. Pacey knew he was still too drunk to drive, but too sober to fall asleep. With a heavy sigh, he shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking down the dark road. 

When Joey answered the knock on her hotel room door, Maggie swept past her like a hurricane, practically flattening Joey back against the wall. 

“Right, I’m here. I brought you some clothes, toiletries, everything you asked for.” She threw the bags onto Joey’s bed as she spoke. “And now you’re going to give me an explanation.”

Joey closed the door behind her best friend. “You’re going to want to sit down for this.” Maggie sat on the bed, her arms folded across her chest. Joey took a breath. “David and I broke up.”

Maggie didn’t even flinch. “Obviously. That’s why I’m here. What I don’t know is  _ why _ .” 

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“So start talking.”

Joey leaned back against the desk, gripping the edge with her hands. “I don’t really know where to begin.” 

“How about telling me why you turned down his proposal?”

Joey blinked at her in surprise. “You know about that?”

“Of course I know. After I spoke to you, I called David.”

“You did  _ what _ ?”

Maggie ignored her protest. “He’s devastated, Joey. He kept asking me why you’d do this to him, and I had no answer for him. Do you know how that made me feel? I’m supposed to be your best friend, and I didn’t see this coming any more than he did!”

“I didn’t see this coming either, okay?” Joey perched on the edge of the desk in her room. “It’s not like I  _ planned _ for any of this to happen.”

“So what  _ did _ happen?” Maggie demanded. “Why did you reject the proposal of the man you’ve been waiting to ask you to marry him for the past two years?” 

She took a breath, then blurted it out in a rush. “Because I met someone else.”

Maggie’s jaw dropped. “You...you  _ what _ ?”

“I met someone--”

“I heard what you said. I just can’t quite believe my ears. You  _ met  _ someone? Who? When? Where?” Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t be telling me that you met someone in that podunk fishing village that Bessie moved to.”

“It’s not a fishing village. It’s a quaint small town.” 

“Oh, gag me. So who is this guy? Please tell me he’s a billionaire who lives on a yacht and owns at least half of said town.”

“No! Who do you think I am?” Joey glared at her. Maggie’s biting sarcasm had been part of what had endeared them to one another in the first place, but sometimes she veered from amusing to mean. Usually Joey let it slide, but that jibe hurt. 

“I don’t  _ know  _ who you are right now!” Maggie replied. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to David, and to yourself.”

“I’m not hurting anyone on purpose, but I can’t live a lie. David and I -- we’re not meant to be together.”

Maggie threw her hands into the air in exasperation. “I  _ knew _ I should’ve made you date more in college. Even at the time, I knew it, but--”

“ _M_ _ ade  _ me date more?” Joey gasped. What was with everyone thinking they should’ve made her do things, shouldn’t have let her do things? When had she started letting other people make all her decisions for her? 

“Yes! You came to college and refused to even look at a boy for almost a year, and then you met Brad. He was a bit of a dweeb, but decidedly non-threatening, and I thought he would be a good stepping stone while you got yourself back on the horse, so to speak. Or on the horse for the first time, I guess, since as far as I can tell, you didn’t go on a single date in high school.”

Joey scowled at her. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, you’ve never been out with a guy that turned out to be a loser. Even boring Brad was exactly what you needed at the time. I thought you’d date him for a while, realise how excruciatingly dull he was, and move on. But you stayed with the guy for two years, and it took everything I had to finally prise you two apart.”

Joey frowned. “Our break up had nothing to do with you, Maggie.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Maggie replied casually. “Stop glaring at me, Joey. Yo u and I both know that you and Brad would’ve never worked out in the long-term. You didn’t even like him by the time you broke up.”

“That’s not true.”

“You weren’t in love with him,” Maggie insisted. “Admit it. You were only still with him because he felt safe and secure, and you needed that. You  _ still  _ need that.” 

“How would you know what I need?” Joey’s anger was rising inside her. “What makes you think that you know me so well?”

“Because I  _ do  _ know you, probably better than you know yourself. I know--”

“What’s my favourite movie?” Joey demanded. “My favourite food? Favourite book, favourite song, fav--”

“I’m not talking about that superficial stuff,” Maggie said, flapping her hand dismissively. “I know who you are in your soul, and you’re not the kind of person who would throw it all away on some three-week romance.”

Joey gritted her teeth in frustration. How had she never noticed before how many of her friends talked down to her like this? Interrupting her, telling her things about herself as if they were the experts on her life, instead of herself. No wonder she exploded at Bessie every time she saw her. She was the only person she could be herself with. 

Well, one of the only people. 

In that moment, Joey realised the truth. In her whole life, there were only two people who really knew her. 

And Maggie wasn’t one of them. 

“I’m not in love with him,” she said decisively.

“I should think not.”

“David.” Joey took a breath and said the words out loud, feeling the tension release as she finally spoke the truth. “I’m not in love with David.”

Maggie just stared at her. “Whatever you do, Joey, do  _ not  _ tell me that you’re in love with this other guy.”

“You don’t get it, Maggie.”

“You’re right, I don’t!” She stood up, and Joey straightened up as well. “So why don’t you explain it to me? Explain to me how two people who have lived together for the past two years, two people that I considered to be the paragons of a stable, functional relationship, are suddenly on the verge of breaking up? I’ve been unlucky in love, Joey. You know that. I’ve messed up and had my heart broken and every time, I comfort myself in the knowledge that somewhere out there, my best friend is showing me that love really does exist, and that maybe something like that is waiting for me, too. And now you’re telling me that it was all a lie?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Joey felt tears spring to her eyes, and fought to hold them back. “I can’t explain how it happened. It just...I just know that I need him.”

“More than you need David?”

“In a completely different way. David was safe, and secure, and dependable, and I needed that. I needed someone to tell me that I’d made the right choice with my career, that I was worthy of being loved by someone who had everything that I’d ever dreamed of having. Being with him made me feel as if I fit into this world. But those weeks in Capeside made me realise that this world isn’t the one I want to live in.” She shook her head. “I thought I wanted that safety net. I thought I needed it, but I don’t. I worked my ass off to get to where I am, and I can do this on my own if I need to. I have to step out on my own two feet and--” 

“So if this is about your independence, what does this other guy have to do with it?”

“He made me realise that the person I’ve been pretending to be is not the person I really am. He’s everything you and I swore we’d never want in a man. He doesn’t have money, or even a high school education. He drives a beat up old car that he fixes himself, and right now he’s living on a boat.” She smiled to herself as she thought of the  _ True Love.  _ “Not a yacht, not even a houseboat, a tiny sailboat. He has no plans, no drive, and his life is a complete mess.”

“I’m really struggling to see the appeal here, Joey.” Her eyes narrowed. “He must be incredible in the sack.”

Joey squirmed, but she defended herself. “I haven’t slept with him.”

“But you kissed him. Didn’t you? You not only fell for someone else, but you cheated on your fiance--”

“He’s not my fiance--”

“--and for what? For the sake of a summer fling? What if it turns out that this new guy is terrible in bed?” Maggie asked. “What then?”

Joey felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “That has nothing to do with--”

“Of course it does. That’s what this comes down to. You know, David told me once that you two didn’t have much of a sex life.”

Joey’s jaw dropped. “He said  _ what _ ?”

“Was he wrong?” Maggie demanded. She saw Joey’s face flush, and her friend turned her head away, avoiding eye contact. “And from the way he told it, _he_ wasn’t the one with the problem.”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” Joey snapped, staring at her friend’s ridiculously expensive shoes. “I can’t imagine why  _ he _ did.”

“We were drunk, and I was hitting on him.” Maggie shrugged when Joey’s head shot up angrily. “Relax, I wasn’t going to actually do anything. I wanted to see how far he’d let me take it, if he was the kind of guy who’d cheat on you with your best friend. It was a test -- one which he passed with flying colors, by the way. But that’s what I don’t get. Of all the people, I never thought you’d be someone who’d throw away their future for the sake of sex!”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“Isn’t it? Then what is it about, Joey? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because I love him! I love him. And I can’t explain it.” Joey dropped her head into her hands, closing her eyes and picturing Pacey. His smile, the way he smirked when he teased her, the way he smelled, the way he held her in his arms like he never wanted to let her go. The way she needed him in her life as much as she needed air to breathe or water to drink, and the indisputable knowledge that he needed her too. “Wait, that’s not true. I do know why. He sees me.” She looked up to meet Maggie’s eyes. Her friend stared blankly back at her. “He understands me. And I know that sounds trite, and cliche, and all those other things, but it’s true. I don’t have to guess what he’s thinking, because he wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s honest, and straightforward, and...and he came to the hospital when Bessie was having Alexander, and sat with me all day even though he hates hospitals. He helped me babysit, and he didn’t mind when the baby puked on him, and he took me to a carnival and won me a stuffed giraffe, and we went sailing together, and he encouraged me to paint.” Joey took a breath around the butterflies in her ribcage. “He looks after me, Maggie.”

“And David doesn’t?”

“Not in the same way. David solves problems for me. He makes my life easy, and if I need anything, he’ll find someone to get it for me. He’d pay for a cab before he’d walk me home, he’d take me out for breakfast before he’d cook for me, and he’d never, ever let my sister cut his hair for him.” 

“As he shouldn’t,” Maggie sniped.

“I know it doesn’t make sense to you. I’m not asking you to understand, but I want you to support me. We’ve been friends for a long time, Meg. I don’t want to lose you from my life.” 

“I need a drink.” Maggie went to the minibar and opened it, perusing the contents. She pulled out a small bottle of Absolut and a carton of orange juice, then grabbed two plastic cups off the top of the fridge and poured out two servings. Passing one to Joey, she sat back down on the bed. “So what you’re really saying here is that you’ve met some smooth talking guy who’s put in the leg work to get you right where he wants you. Believe me when I tell you that the day you sleep with him is the day it’ll all be over. He’ll get what he came for, and peace out of your life before you can blink.” Maggie took a gulp of her drink, then reached for the vodka bottle and added more alcohol to her cup. 

Joey scowled at her. “It’s not like that.”

“So what is it like? Because so far, you haven’t said anything that this guy can do that David couldn’t. Except for the haircut thing, and honestly that seems completely reasonable to me.”

Joey took a sip of her drink, trying to figure out why she felt this gravitational pull towards Pacey, despite all of the reasons she’d just outlined. 

“We just…we work well together,” she said. “He taught me to drive stick. And before you ask, that’s not a euphemism,” she added, fighting back a smile.

Maggie just glared at her, unamused. “You work well together? Please. You’ve worked with David for four years.”

“I work  _ for  _ David. It’s not the same thing.” 

“So get a new job at another firm,” Maggie said. “With your resume, I could name five companies off the top of my head who would hire you in a heartbeat. Providing that you don’t burn every bridge you’ve built on your way out of there.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Joey said, taking another long sip of her drink. “Pacey and I did other things together. Babysitting. I did some waitressing at the restaurant where he works, and he--”

“Hold up,” Maggie said. “His name is Pacey? Who calls their kid Pacey?” She met Joey’s scowl with a shrug. “Sorry. Continue. Actually, don’t. You waitressed for him?”

“He was short-staffed.” 

“And he helped you babysit.”

“Yes.”

“And he did all of this out of the goodness of his own heart?” Maggie asked, her voice dripping with skepticism.

“Not exactly. I knew he was attracted to me. I was attracted to him.”

“And you didn’t at any point think  _ oh wait, I have a boyfriend back home and shouldn’t be flirting with other men _ ?” 

Joey scowled at her. “Of course I did. I turned Pacey down when he asked me out the first time. And the second. And the third, I think. But he’s very persuasive, and we agreed to just be friends.”

“Until he kissed you.”

Joey blushed, but she was on the truth train and had to see it through. “No. Until I kissed him.”

Maggie sighed. She finished her drink, and refilled her cup as Joey took another sip from her own. 

“And Bessie had nothing to say about any of this?” Joey looked away, and Maggie shook her head. “What am I saying? She hates David. She encouraged you, didn’t she?”

“She doesn’t hate him.”

“She doesn’t  _ like _ him.”

“She doesn’t really care about him either way,” Joey realised. “She doesn’t like who I am when I’m with him.”

“And how exactly is that your problem?”

“Because I don’t like me either!” The words burst out of Joey almost before she’d realised what she said. But she knew that she’d finally admitted the truth. “I don’t like who I am right now, Maggie. I’m role-playing some version of Joey Potter that I thought I was supposed to be, and that’s not who I really am. And being with Pacey made me realise that.”

“So you’re saying that in all these years that I’ve known you, I’ve never actually known you? You’ve just been pretending to be someone else?”

“I don't know. Maybe." Joey sighed, trying to figure out how to explain this in a way her friend would understand. "My mom was an artist,” she said after a pause. “Did you know that? She loved to paint, and so do I. I’m not particularly good at it, but I love it. It makes me happy, makes me feel peaceful and strong and close to her. But I stopped painting not long after she died. I told myself it was because I didn’t have time, that it wasn’t a plausible career for me so there was no point in pursuing it. But I loved it. I still do. And I told David that once, and he said it could be a hobby in my retirement. And I told Pacey that, and he bought me a whole set of watercolour paints, took me to a beautiful island and asked me to paint him a picture.” 

She took a breath. This wasn’t really about Pacey. It was about her, the real her. The person her best friend barely knew. 

“I love being outdoors. I love swimming and sailing and walking around barefoot. I don’t care about designer clothes or expensive shoes or five-star restaurants. I love going to crappy small town diners and eating food that leaves grease on your fingers and your stomach distended. I want to go to Paris and walk around the back streets, not just visiting the tourist hot spots but discovering the small nooks and crannies of a city that old. I want to go hiking in the woods and camp out under the stars. I want to live in a house with a lawn that needs mowing and leaves that need raking and a driveway that needs to be shovelled in the winter. And I want to have a family.” 

Joey downed the rest of her drink, and handed the cup back to Maggie. Wordlessly, her friend re-filled it before passing it back. Joey looked down into the orange blend, her voice softer. 

“I told David that I didn’t want children, because I couldn’t see myself having them with him. I saw how he was with his kids, how emotionally distant he could be, the way he would let them down when work became more important. I heard the way he talked to me about them, blaming their problems and insecurities on their mother’s issues. I knew he didn’t want more children, so I said I didn’t either, but I lied. I do. I always have.” 

She took a gulp of her drink. There was a lot more vodka in this one. Her stomach clenched at the taste as her brain fired off a warning.  _ Don’t get drunk. Don’t lose control _ . Tears stung her eyes as Joey let another admission slide out. 

“I don’t drink because...because I was too drunk to say no when I was fifteen and I’m terrified of being that vulnerable again.” 

She closed her eyes as tears slid down her cheeks. She’d never talked about that night with anyone. Not in any kind of detail. All these years, she’d held the truth close to her chest. Even from her best friend, her sister, and herself.

“I swore off alcohol for years after that, swore off men, stayed away from anyone and anything that could derail my path to valedictorian, to a scholarship, to a successful career. That’s why I didn’t date in high school, why I avoided dating in college, why I stuck to Brad like glue. I kept my head down, and I worked hard, and I got everything I wanted. And now it turns out that I didn’t really want any of it.” 

“What  _ do  _ you want?” Maggie asked. Her voice was softer, kinder.

“I want to be happy. And I want to be with someone who makes me feel like I’m the most important part of their life. Maybe that’s narcissistic, I don’t know. But I want to feel needed,” she said. “David made it his business to look after me, but he never needed me to be there for him, or to support him. I looked good on his arm, and I took care of small details in his life, but those were all things that any woman could do. He doesn’t need  _ me _ .” 

“And this Pacey guy does?”

She remembered the look of surprise on Pacey’s face when she’d picked up the menu at the Ice House and filled in for Theresa without being asked. His sense of relief when she’d driven him to the emergency room. The way he’d melted against her when they’d said goodbye, his hand clutching her hair, holding her like he never wanted to let her go. 

Joey stared into her empty cup with a soft smile. “I think we need each other.”

“Where have you been?”

Pacey rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand as he stepped onto Gretchen’s porch. The sun had come up a couple of hours ago, and it was already muggy and warm. Sweat trickled down his back and into the waistband of his jeans as he walked up to his sister, who greeted him with a glare, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of black coffee.

“I went for a walk.”

“You were gone all night,” she said. “Where did you sleep?”

“I didn’t.” Pacey sat down on the porch steps, his tired legs finally giving out. He’d walked and walked and walked, trying not to think about Joey, but it hadn’t worked. She was everywhere. He couldn’t escape her. He didn’t really want to. 

Gretchen sat down next to him. “How are you going to drive yourself back to Capeside if you haven’t had any sleep?”

“I’ll manage.”

“No, you’ll take a nap before you leave.”

“I don’t have time, Gretch. I start work in four hours.”

“Fine. You leave me no choice.” She passed him the mug of coffee, then stood up. “Give me ten minutes, then we’ll leave.”

“We?”

“I’m driving you home.”

Pacey laughed. “No, you’re not.” He took a sip of the dark coffee, and sighed as the pounding in his head eased. His eyes were gritty, his vision blurred at the edges. He was exhausted and hungover and miserable, and his sister was right. He was in no state to be driving home. “Okay, maybe you are.”

“I’m going to have a shower,” she told him. “But first, give me your keys.” 

“Why do you need my keys?”

“To stop you from leaving without me.”

Pacey fished his car keys out of his pocket and handed them to her. “You always know how to foil my plans.”

Gretchen lightly smacked the back of his head, and Pacey winced. “And you always were a little punk. There’s cereal in the kitchen if you want to eat something before we go.”

He shook his head with a grimace. “If I eat now, you’ll be seeing it again in half an hour, and I don’t think either of us wants that.”

“You really were on a bender last night, weren’t you?” She touched his head again, but this time her hand was gentle. “I’m glad you’re okay. When I realised that you weren’t here, I called Kayla, but she said she went home alone. I was worried about you, Pace.”

“I’m fine, Gretch.”

“I don’t believe you. But I think you will be, if you can find a way to get your shit together.” She jingled his keys around her finger. “Ten minutes.”

“Eight. You just wasted two of them talking to me.”

“Nah. Talking to you is never a waste of my time.” 

Gretchen went inside, and Pacey smiled as he took another gulp of coffee. He’d made some stupid decisions in the past twenty four hours, but he’d been right about one thing. Talking to his sister always did make him feel better. 

He watched the minutes tick by on his watch. Eight minutes passed, then five more. He finished the coffee, and set the mug down on the wooden steps next to him. Despite the caffeine, his eyes kept threatening to close. Eventually Pacey gave up fighting the inevitable, and rested his head against the railing, allowing his body to finally rest. 

The sound of raised voices woke him from his drowsy state. Pacey had grown up hearing people shout at each other -- it had always been a staple part of life in the Witter household -- so it wasn’t an unfamiliar sound, but it was an unwelcome one. Especially since it wasn’t their father, or mother, or Doug who was doing the yelling right now. It was Nick.

Pacey got to his feet, his head still pounding, and went inside the house. He could hear Nick’s voice coming down the stairs, his words muffled but his anger clear. What wasn’t muffled was the loud thump that came next, and forgetting his hangover, Pacey ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and pushed the bedroom door open. What he saw made his blood boil. Nick had Gretchen up against the wall, one hand on her arm, pinning her back against the wallpaper. His other hand was gesticulating wildly. Pacey caught a quick glimpse of the suitcase laid out on the bed, clothes scattered in and around it, from the corner of his eye as he confronted Nick. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Stay out of this, Pacey.” Nick didn’t even turn his head to look at him. “This is between me and your sister.

“Not when you’re threatening her like that, it’s not.”

“I’m not threatening her. I’m talking to her.”

“Then let go of her.” Pacey forced his voice to be reasonable, forced himself to lower his tone. He knew how to de-escalate a situation. God knew, he’d had enough practice over the years. 

“It’s okay, Pacey.” Gretchen knew how to de-escalate, too. But her techniques were a little different from his. She forced a smile. “We’re fine.”

Pacey saw Nick’s expression change at his sister’s words. His anger softened, replaced by a look of smug satisfaction. He’d won the battle, and he knew it. Releasing her arm, he took a couple of steps back, flexing his fingers subconsciously. Gretchen straightened up, smoothing her hair, avoiding Pacey’s eyes.

“You’re going to have to drive yourself home, Pacey,” Nick said. “Gretchen’s staying here.”

Not on Pacey’s watch, she wasn’t. “I don’t think so.”

They both frowned at him, but Gretchen spoke first. “Sorry, Pace. I know I said I’d take you, but--”

“Nuh uh. No buts. You know I can’t drive myself home in this state.”

“So take Riley’s room. Sleep it off.”

“I can’t.” He looked at Gretchen pleadingly, and she glanced away from him. That only made him more determined. “She’s coming with me.”

“Oh, no she’s not.” Nick squared up to him, fists clenched as he blocked Pacey’s path toward Gretchen. He was a couple inches shorter than Pacey, and had to look upwards to meet his stare, but as his anger flared up in an instant, Pacey’s brain recognised him as a dangerous man. Which made it even more impossible for him to leave his sister with the guy.

“Has anyone considered asking me what  _ I _ want?” Gretchen said from behind Nick’s shoulder. 

Pacey’s eyes shifted to her. “You already told me what you want.”

“Oh she did, did she?” Nick said, looking back at Gretchen. “Enlighten me.” 

“She wants to get away from you.”

“I never said that,” Gretchen objected. 

“You insisted on driving me home. You didn’t want me to come inside your house.” He ticked the evidence off on his fingers. “You wouldn’t answer when I asked you if you loved Nick, and you definitely considered moving to Boston with me and leaving this creep behind.”

As soon as Pacey said those last few words, he knew he shouldn’t have. Nick’s posture changed. He was a raging bull, bulging eyes and strained muscles.  He spun around to face Gretchen. “You’re leaving me?” he spat.

“Are you that stupid that you can’t tell?” Pacey asked, moving closer, trying to intercept him before he could lay his hands on Gretchen again. Trying to rile him up so he’d direct his anger at him, instead. “She’s literally packing her bags right now? What else do you need, a written statement?” 

Nick spun around. “Stay the fuck out of our business!” 

Pacey straightened up to his full height, using it to his advantage. “No.”

He knew it was coming, had known it would happen from the moment he’d first walked into the room. He had plenty of experience at de-escalation, but it didn’t always work. Sometimes, there was no way out. Sometimes, you walked into a battle you couldn’t win. The trick was to make sure the only person who got hit was you.

Pacey dodged to the side as Nick swung his fist, and the shorter man’s knuckles glanced off his cheekbone. It still stung, but it wasn’t enough to disarm him. Pulling his own arm back, he socked Nick in the right cheek with his left hand. His height was a small advantage, but not much of one. Nick was burning with anger. Nick wasn’t exhausted from walking around all night, didn’t have a slamming migraine, went to the gym every week to practice punching the shit out of things, and had two working hands. Pacey knew he didn’t stand a chance. But that wasn’t the point. Nick’s fist connected with the side of his nose, slamming his head back and knocking him off balance. Pacey stumbled back and hit the wall, where his legs gave out and he slumped to the ground in a heap. Every part of his head was in pain, inside and out, and he tasted blood as it ran from his left nostril into his mouth. 

“Leave him alone!”

Pacey looked up at Gretchen, trying to see if she was okay. His vision was blurred, and the room swam around him. Darkness crept into the edge of his sight. He closed his eyes, just for a moment. Gretchen was clinging onto their father’s arm, pulling it back, telling him to stop. Pop shook her off as if she was a fly, telling her to keep out of it. He could hear his mother’s voice, talking calmly, acting as if nothing bad was really happening. Trying to calm his father down, blaming Pacey for winding him up, telling Gretchen to go to her room. Gretchen was crying, refusing to leave him. He heard his mother’s voice, again, as the warm blood trickled down his throat.  _ Don’t worry about Pacey. He’ll be fine. It’s just his pride that’s hurt.  _

His father’s voice.  _ He needs to toughen up, and if I don’t make him, nobody will.  _

The yelling continued. Pacey raised his hand to rub his eyes, but the jolt of pain he experienced when he touched his face almost made him puke. He tried to speak. 

“Gretchen.” He tried to make her come into focus. She was still shouting, but it was at Nick this time. 

“You asshole! How dare you do that?”

“He hit me first!”

“He was trying to protect me!”

“When have I ever laid a hand on you, Gretchen?”

“You’re doing it right now!” 

Pacey forced his eyes to focus on their blurry outlines, blinking rapidly until his vision started to clear. Nick had his hand on Gretchen’s arm, and she was trying to pull away from him. Pacey started to struggle to his feet when someone else walked into the room, a tall, ginger-haired man with a thick beard and broad shoulders. 

“Bro, what’re you doing? Let go of her.”

At his words, Nick dropped his hand. Gretchen turned away from him. Even in his groggy state, Pacey could see she was shaking. 

“Riley. I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

“My game was cancelled.” He scanned the room, and his eyes fell on Pacey. “Who’s this guy?”

“My brother,” Gretchen said, pushing past Nick and throwing her clothes into her suitcase as she spoke. “Who Nick just laid out for daring to stick up for me.”

Riley reached out and grabbed Pacey’s arm, hauling him to his feet. 

“You okay, man?”

“Does he look okay to you?” Gretchen zipped up her suitcase and pulled it off the bed, then dragged it across to him. “Let’s get out of here, Pacey.”

“You can’t leave me!” Nick cried.

“I think you’ll find that’s exactly what I can do,” Gretchen said. “And I am. I should’ve done this years ago. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Nick made a move toward them, and Pacey clenched his one working fist in anticipation, even as his stomach tied itself into knots at the thought of being hit again. Riley stepped in, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder and holding him back. 

“Go, Gretchen. You can talk to him later.”

“I never want to talk to him again,” she declared, grabbing Pacey’s bandaged hand. It hurt like hell, but he didn’t pull away. “C’mon, Pacey. Let’s go home.”

The elevator doors opened with a whoosh, and Joey stepped out into the foyer of the office she’d worked in for the past four years. The receptionist greeted her warmly, clearly having no idea what had gone down last night. Joey smiled back at her, assured her that she’d had a lovely time in Capeside, and promised to email a photo of the baby through before she managed to escape to her desk. 

It became obvious to Joey as she made her way to her desk that the events of last night hadn’t reached anyone’s ears. It was a relief, in a way -- she’d been dreading a potential walk of shame across the office floor -- but it didn’t make what she had to do now any easier. Joey set her purse down on her desk, steeled herself, and turned toward David’s office. 

“Joey! Did you get my email?” Sandra was right in front of her, holding a binder stuffed with paper, looking as harried as ever. “I sent it to you last week, and then a couple of reminders in the past few days. I wish I’d known you were going to be gone this long. I need you to look over this contract for a new intern, and there are a few clauses where we’re not sure the wording is correct. Can you make it your first priority today?”

“Uh, sure.” Joey took the binder from Sandra with a false smile. “I just have to pop in to see David first.”

Sandra frowned. “Didn’t see enough of him last night?” she asked. Her eyes strayed toward Joey’s left hand, and she raised her eyebrows. “Still no ring, I see. What d’you suppose he’s waiting for, the next ice age?”

Joey lifted her eyes and met the woman’s gaze with a hard glare. Sandra quailed slightly and backed away. 

“We’ll talk later. Let me know as soon as you can get that paperwork signed off.”

Joey dropped the binder onto her desk with a thump. “I will. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and see David.”

She strode past the pushy woman, riding the adrenalin of her anger all the way to David’s office door. It was closed, but she could see through the frosted glass that he was there. Joey raised her hand and knocked, then turned the handle and opened the door. A flush of deja vu washed over her as she did so, a reminder of the many times before that she’d done this. Opened the door surreptitiously, her heart pounding with anticipation, waiting to see him turn to her with a smile. Closing the door softly behind her, trying to maintain a professional demeanour while harboring a crush on the man she worked for. 

The deja vu faded away as she closed the door, the latch fastening with a loud click. David looked up. His shirt was slightly crumpled, his tie a tiny bit askew. It was nothing most people would even notice, but Joey knew him too well. 

“Hi.”

“Morning.” He leaned back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, steepling his fingers in his lap. “I suppose it’d be too much to hope that you’ve had a change of heart.”

He sounded a little cold, a bit callous, but she knew he didn’t mean it. He was protecting his own heart, and she didn’t begrudge him that chance. If she’d burst into tears and apologised for doubting him, had told him that she had thought it through and definitely  _ did  _ want to marry him, she was ninety-nine per cent sure that he’d take her back. 

But she couldn’t do that. Not to either of them.

“I’m so sorry, David.”

She saw his shoulders slump at her words. “So that’s it? Four years of what I thought was a good, solid relationship down the drain?”

Joey nodded, unable to speak.

But he wasn’t letting her off that easily. “Do you care to tell me why? I mean, I think you owe me that much, at least.”

She drew in a slow, shaking breath. “I can’t marry you, because I’m in love with someone else.” Focusing her eyes on his lapel instead of his face, she kept talking. “I should have told you this yesterday, I’m so sorry that I didn’t, but I didn’t want to do it in public so I chickened out, and--”

“Who is he?” David interrupted. “Do I know him?”

“No. He lives in Capeside.” 

“In Capeside?” He let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re telling me that you met some guy a few weeks ago and you’ve just fallen in love with him? Just like that? Joey, Joey, Joey. Think about what you’re saying.” 

“I can’t explain it, okay? It just happened.” 

“That’s nonsense. People don’t just fall in love at first sight. I know women like to believe in all that romantic crap, but it’s not true. Relationships take time, and effort. They don’t happen overnight.”

“This coming from the man who told me that he fell in love with me as soon as he saw me,” she reminded him.

“I never said that.”

“Valentine’s Day, 2005. You took me to New York City, and we went to the opera, and then up to the top of the Empire State Building, and you told me that you’d loved me from the moment you first laid eyes on me.” She met his stare, knowing he remembered. “Were you lying?”

“And you told me that was impossible,” he retorted. “You stood there and laughed, and said I must have just had some kind of a chemical attraction. You remember  _ that _ ?”

_ Pheromones.  _ Joey knew first hand how powerful they were. “I guess I was wrong.”

“I guess you were.” He stared at her, his disappointment turning to anger. She swallowed nervously as he stood up, throwing his hands into the air. “I can’t  _ believe _ I fell for this!”

“Fell for what?”

“That I actually believed you had feelings for me! People warned me, you know. My own children warned me that you were a gold digger, that you were just using me for my money and my position. But I was blinded by love and was convinced that you actually wanted to be with me.” 

“I did.”

He snorted. “Not enough to stay with me.” His nostrils flared as he stared at her. “Did you kiss him?” he demanded. “You did, didn’t you? You kissed him. How many times?”

Joey shook her head. “I’m not answering that. It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business!” he exclaimed. “You cheat on me and say that it’s none of my business?” 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.” He knew exactly how to twist her words and use them against her. “At least I know you didn’t sleep with him. I can take some cold comfort in that. Because if you had, if you’d even tried, there’s no way he’d still be interested in you.”

“How dare you,” Joey hissed, her body shaking with anger.

“You know that I’m right,” David sneered. “But sooner or later, you’re going to have to face that problem, because he’s going to expect to sleep with you Joey, and not every man you meet is going to be as patient and understanding about your little hang-ups as I was.”

“Fuck you, David.”

He shrugged callously. “Maybe now someone will.” He sat back down, turning toward his computer. “Get out of my office and out of my life. I’ll expect your resignation letter this afternoon, and you’d better go and pack your bags, because tomorrow I’m changing the locks.” 

Joey’s hand shook as she reached into her pocket and drew out the gaudy engagement ring. Stepping slowly toward his desk, she laid it down on the polished teak. 

“Goodbye, David” she said. 

Turning on her heel, Joey walked out of the room and out of his life.

“Hungry?”

Pacey peered out from under the packet of frozen peas pressed against his face as Gretchen pulled the Jeep over in front of a roadside diner. 

“I don’t even care if you’re not, because I’m starved. We can eat in or get it to go, it’s up to you.”

Pacey winced, lowering the frozen veg into his lap. “How bad does it look?”

“On your face? Any reconstructive surgery whatsoever is a definite improvement,” Gretchen quipped. “I’m kidding. It’s not that bad.”

“Liar.” He pulled down the visor and looked at his reflection. His left eye was swollen half shut, and there was a small split across the bridge of his nose. A narrow strip of crusted blood trailed down his upper lip, and his cheekbone was already turning purple. “Fuck.”

“I’m so sorry, Pace.”

Frowning, he shook his head, ignoring the throbbing that still hadn’t gone away. “It’s not your fault, Gretchen. I just don’t get it. Why didn’t you say something earlier? Why not just leave that asshole?” 

She sighed. “I can’t talk about this on an empty stomach. C’mon.” She opened the driver’s door and jumped down onto the warm tarmac. Pacey followed more slowly. 

They went into the diner, and although Pacey got a curious look from the woman behind the counter, nobody mentioned his busted face. They sat down at a booth in the far corner, and silently perused the menus. With their orders taken and mugs of steaming hot coffee in front of them, Gretchen started to talk. 

“He’s not always like that. I know that’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s true. Sometimes he’s still the guy I fell in love with, and I still love that guy. God help me, I know I shouldn’t, but I do.” 

“Hey.” Pacey reached across the table and gently squeezed his sister’s wrist. “It’s not your fault that you fell in love.”

“But it’s my fault that I stayed. Even when it got bad, I stayed. And if you hadn’t been physically incapable of driving yourself home this morning, I’d probably still be there. Still pretending that everything would eventually be okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

Pacey attempted to smile as he gestured toward his face. “Look how well that worked out for me.” He held up his hand as she started to speak. “Don’t apologise again. It wasn’t your fist, so it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” Gretchen tore open a sugar packet and poured it into her mug. “I’ve known for a while that I needed to end things. I just wasn’t brave enough. I guess I thought when I invited you up here that maybe I would do it, that having you around would give me the jolt that I needed. But then, last night, Nick was so good to me. I honestly thought things might turn around, that maybe I’d made a mistake.” 

“What mistake?”

Gretchen stirred her coffee with a spoon, staring into the black depths. “I had an abortion last week.”

Pacey blinked at her. “You did?” His mind started piecing things together quickly. “That’s why you didn't want to play paintball, or do anything too physical, right? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Just blurt it out, just like that?" She shrugged. "I don't know. Embarrassed, I guess."

“Shit, Gretchen.” Pacey leaned across the table, keeping his voice low. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” 

“Does Nick know?”

She shook her head fast. “No. I never told him.” She sighed. “I couldn't have a baby with him.”

“Of course not. It’s not safe.” Pacey braced himself, then asked the question he’d been dreading. “Did he ever hit you?”

“No. Never.” She shook her head adamantly. “He yelled a lot, and got jealous and possessive. Occasionally he would grab me, like he did this morning, but he never left a mark.”

“Not on your skin, anyway.”

She shook her head, more slowly this time. “I always told myself that was the bottom line, that if he ever hit me, I was out. But it escalated so slowly that I kept making excuses for him. Until he hit you this morning. Then I knew I had to get out.”

“Glad to be of service to you,” Pacey said sardonically.

“He had no right to do that.”

“I did hit him first." 

“Still. He can’t control his temper, and there’s no way I could bring a child into that mix. What if he treated our kid the way Pop treated you?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t stand that.”

Pacey took a burning gulp of coffee, and swallowed it around the lump in his throat. “How are you feeling? You know, after the--”

“Abortion. You can say it. And yes, I’m fine. The pain is mostly gone, and I don’t regret the decision. It was for the best.” She tore open another packet of sugar and poured that into her mug as well. 

“And now you can make a clean break.”

“Yeah.” She took a sip from her mug, and pulled a face. “And you can go after your true love, although I suggest letting your face heal up a bit more first.”

Pacey shrugged. “My boat doesn’t care what I look like.”

Gretchen kicked him under the table. “Not what I meant, punk.”

He grinned. “So I guess this means we really are moving to Boston.”

Gretchen looked up with a grin. “You’re in?”

He didn’t really have to think about it too hard. He knew what he wanted, and he was prepared to go all out to get it. “Yeah, I’m in.”

“No backing out now,” she warned him. 

“Nope. I promise.” 

She raised her eyebrows. "But do you pinky promise?"

Pacey rested his elbow on the table and held out his pinky finger. Grinning, Gretchen linked her finger through his, squeezing it tight.

“Now you  _ have _ to come with me, or I’ll break your finger.”

“Not if I break yours first.”

Gretchen tightened her grip, still smiling. “You wouldn’t dare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally posting this! This chapter got WAY too long and I was going to split it into two parts but in the end I thought I'll just post this monster of a chapter because why not. 
> 
> How Audrey infiltrated this chapter I couldn't tell you, she literally just turned up at Civilization and I was so amused by her that I let her stay. 
> 
> One more chapter to come, it's already written so should be posted in the next couple of days!


	14. Capeside (Revisted)

**_Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain_ **

* * *

It was raining when they got back to Capeside. Gretchen drove to Doug’s apartment and parked on the street outside, then reached over and rocked Pacey’s shoulder. 

“Wake up, little brother.”

He opened his eyes slowly, wincing from the pain. “Where-- Oh.” He sighed. “Just take me to my boat.”

“No. I need your help.”

“With what?”

“Convincing Doug to let me move in with him.”

Pacey pulled a face. “You really want to do that?”

“No. But I’m not moving back in with Mom. I’d never escape, and it’s going to be bad enough hearing from her when she finds out that I left Nick.”

“She’ll understand.”

Gretchen raised an eyebrow. “You think so? I don’t. Besides, I’ve been thinking about it all the way home, and the scariest thing is, I think I was turning into her. I don’t want to do that, Pace.”

“You won’t,” he reassured her. “But you really want to live with Doug?”

“Needs must. There’s not enough room for me to sleep on your boat.” 

“You wouldn’t want to live with me, anyway. I’m a slob, remember?”

“Boy, do I.” She looked out the window at the real estate agency below Doug’s apartment. “We wouldn’t have this problem if you’d just stayed in the beach house.”

“And paid the rent how?” he asked. “Believe it or not, minimum wage doesn’t exactly fund beach houses, and I couldn’t have done it on one income.”

“Especially not when you were spending every spare penny you have on fixing up some old sailboat.” Gretchen smiled at his irritated expression. “I know, I know. The boat is the love of your life. Or she was, anyway.” She smirked, then her face softened. “That was a good time, though. I miss that house.”

“Me, too.” Despite the overwhelming sense of failure that had permeated his psyche that entire year, living with Gretchen had been good. She’d always known how to pull him out of his funk, had helped him get a job at the boat yard, had told him he was a good person just waiting for potential to kick in. He was still waiting, but he got the sense she still believed in him, and that was reassuring. “You know that place is for sale.”

“It is?”

“Yep.” He fiddled with the frayed end of the bandage on his hand. “If I had the money--” 

“If we both did.” Gretchen sighed. “But we’re not planning on staying in Capeside anyway, remember?”

Pacey nodded. The thought of moving to Boston scared the shit out of him, but the thought of losing Joey through his own stubbornness was even worse. 

“We’ll start looking today for places to live in Boston,” Gretchen planned. “We might have to live with roommates for a while, but we’ll find something.” 

“Won’t we need jobs first?”

“We’ll go looking for both. Although I think first things first, you need to go tell Joey that you’re in love with her.”

“Pretty sure she already knows.” 

“Does she? For sure?” his sister pressed. “You used to know how to make a grand romantic gesture, Pacey. Might be time to pull one of those out of the bag again.” 

“Looking like this?” he asked, motioning to his busted face. “I think like you said before, let’s give it a few days. Give the bruises time to fade. Besides, wouldn’t it be better if I went to her with a job and a place in Boston already lined up?”

“I guess that couldn’t hurt,” Gretchen agreed. “Just don’t wait too long, okay?”

“I’ll try.” The rain intensified, and she groaned. “I don’t think this rain’s getting any lighter, Gretch. Might be time to make a run for it.”

“Okay.” She pulled the keys from the ignition and handed them to Pacey. “Drive safe.”

“I thought you needed me to help you persuade Dougie.”

“On reflection, I think it’s better if you’re not there.” 

“Sure? He’ll be so mad at me for getting my face hit that he’ll forget to be mad at you for intruding upon his hallowed sanctum.”

“I just don’t think you need that today. Besides, you start work in half an hour.”

Pacey groaned. “Let’s just hope that with just one working eye, I don’t manage to slice my other hand and serve my fingers on a platter to some unsuspecting customer.”

Gretchen shook her head. “You know, if you want some help, you only have to ask.”

He frowned at her. “Huh?”

“Ask. Say  _ Gretchen, since you’re not doing anything else today and you don’t really want to spend all afternoon being lectured by Doug, would you please come and help me in the kitchen today? _ ” She raised her eyebrows, waiting. Pacey just stared at her. “Sure, Pace. I’d love to. What time do we start?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Actually, it’s the least I could do, after everything you’ve done for me.” Gretchen looked out at the rain with a frown. “Do you think Doug’s even home?”

“No. But I have a key.”

She turned back to him with a smirk. “Does he  _ know  _ that you have a key?”

Pacey shrugged. “He suspects. He has no proof.”

Gretchen snorted. “Great. Let’s go, then.”

“I’ll wait here for you. Get a few more minutes of shut-eye.” 

“Oh, no you don’t. You, my friend, are in desperate need of a shower.” 

“Maybe I’ll just go stand out in the rain for a while.”

“Pacey.”

“Okay, okay.” He sighed. “Let’s go.”

Dark grey clouds loomed over Capeside, and spattering raindrops hit the windshield of the rental car. Joey flipped the wipers on and scowled at the gloomy weather. Good thing she didn’t believe in bad omens. The small town was still pretty, despite the inclement weather, and she found herself wondering what it would be like in the fall, the winter, the spring.  _ Guess you’ll find out. _ A small smile crossed her face, but a shiver of trepidation followed it. She hadn’t exactly left things on the best of terms with Pacey. What if he wouldn’t take her back? What if he decided, now or six months down the line, that  _ he  _ didn’t feel it? Her stomach turned to ice.  _ Then at least you’ll know _ , she told herself. Because she hadn’t made this decision just for him. She was doing it for herself. 

The road that led toward Bessie’s creekside cottage was to her right, but Joey turned left, heading into town. She had another stop to make before she saw her sister. 

“Here.” Pacey turned as Gretchen shoved a couple of white pills into his hand, along with a glass of water. “Take these.”

Pacey swallowed the tablets without hesitation. “What are they?”

“Ecstasy.” 

“Perfect.” 

His sister grinned at the look on his face. “Ibuprofen. How’s your head?”

“Sore.”

“Hand?”

“Also sore.”

“You sure you don’t want me to call Dennis? See if he can’t come in early today?”

“His grandmother’s sick. I don’t want to pull him away from family unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Gretchen put an arm around him and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a good guy, Pace. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

He nodded, his eyes on the food in front of him. Pacey drew a beefsteak tomato toward himself and started slicing it as Amber appeared at the pass with another order. 

“Two cheeseburgers, two fries, a Diet Coke and a chocolate shake for table six. And table four wants an update on their chicken tenders.”

“I sent them out already.”

“You sent out buffalo wings.” 

“Is that not what they ordered?” Pacey’s head throbbed, and he felt nausea rising in his gut. Dropping the knife onto the cutting board, he turned around. “I need some air.”

“Pacey!” Amber objected, but Gretchen spoke over her. 

“Cut him some slack. He’s not feeling well.”

“And whose fault is that?” Amber snitted. 

Pacey didn’t pause to listen to Gretchen’s response. He knew his sister could handle the snarky teenager with one hand tied behind her back. He opened the back door and stepped out into the alley. His car was parked just a few yards away, and the temptation to get in and drive back to his boat, collapse onto the mattress and fall asleep was almost too much to bear. But he had three more hours left on his shift. At least the lunch rush was easing off. 

Pacey leaned back against the wall. The rain had eased off to a light shower, but the dark clouds overhead predicted heavier rainfall to come. The tiny canopy over the back door wasn’t doing much to keep the rain off him. Not that he cared. The cool air was a balm in comparison to the hot steamy kitchen. If only he hadn’t given up smoking years ago. He could’ve really used a cigarette just then. Or a drink. There was a bottle of Jack Daniels on his boat, stashed under the sink. Just one more thing to look forward to when his shift ended. If this godforsaken day would ever end.

He closed his eyes and thought of Joey, wishing he knew where she was, what she was thinking. Wondering if she’d gone back to Boston and seen her boyfriend and realised that he was the one for her, that she’d been fooling herself ever thinking she could make things work with a washed up loser like Pacey. Wondering if she’d come to her senses. 

“There you are.”

He didn’t open his eyes.

“Where else would I be?”

“Well, I don’t know. But I’m glad I found you.”

Pacey’s eyes flew open, and he turned his head to see Joey, standing in the doorway, looking at him. Joey. She was wearing slim cut jeans and a bright red windbreaker, and there were raindrops in her hair and dripping off the end of her ponytail. Her thumbs were hooked into her pockets as she shifted her weight anxiously. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. 

“You came back.” His voice was breathless, disbelieving. 

“Yeah.” She swallowed hard, looking nervous as she walked a little closer, letting the door swing shut behind her. She stood under the canopy, rain falling onto her shoulders. “I had to. David asked me to marry him last night.”

“He did?” Pacey’s heart crashed into his chest, and he braced his injured hand on the wall. Had she come back just to say goodbye? Hurt and frustration started to build inside his chest. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I said no.” Oxygen returned to his lungs at her words. “I told him I couldn’t marry him, because--” She broke off her sentence, frowning at him. “What happened to your face?”

“What? Oh, nothing. It doesn’t matter.” 

The infamous Potter scowl appeared on her face. “It matters to me. Did someone hit you?” she demanded. “Who was it?”

Pacey smiled. “You gonna defend my honor, Jo?”

“You better believe it.” She stopped in front of him and reached up to touch his bruised cheek. Her fingers were soft and light, like butterflies, tracing across his damp, battered skin. “Are you okay?” 

“I am now.” He half-closed his eyes under her caress, then reached up and caught her hand. “You were saying?”

“Oh.” She bit her lip for a second, then looked up and met his warm, ocean blue eyes. Her anxiety ebbed away like an outgoing tide. “I told David that I couldn’t marry him, because I’m in love with someone else.”

The widest grin broke out on Pacey’s face. “You are?”

“Uh huh.”

A deep crease appeared between his eyebrows. “It is me, right?”

Joey laughed, reaching her hands up to cradle the back of his neck as the rain got suddenly heavier. Joey grinned at him, raindrops hanging on her eyelashes, splashing away as she blinked. 

“Whatever would make you think that?” she teased.

“Call it a hunch.” 

She giggled, then leaned in and kissed him, and he closed his eyes and opened his mouth and lost himself in her. Joey moved in closer, pressing her hips against his, her arms wrapping around his neck, his head, pulling him in like she never wanted to let him go, and Pacey kissed her back with all the passion and tenderness she’d come to expect from him. Rain ran down their faces, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered to either of them except each other. 

Pacey had no idea how long they were there for before Gretchen arrived and cleared her throat. Joey broke apart from Pacey, pulling her head back and turning to look at his sister. A deep flush rose to her cheeks, but Pacey was unperturbed. He sprinkled kisses across her cheek, trying to get her to turn her head back toward him. 

“Joey, my sister Gretchen.” He kissed along her jaw before sliding his tongue into the soft hollow behind her earlobe, feeling her shiver under his hand, still pressed against her lower back. “Gretchen, this is Joey.”

“I figured as much.” She grinned at the pair of them. “I hate to break up the love fest, but it’s batshit crazy in here and we could use our cook. And why are you standing in the rain? You’re getting soaked.”

“Is it raining?” Pacey tilted his head back and looked up at the dark sky, wincing as the heavy raindrops splattered across his face. “Are you sure?”

Joey laughed, put a hand on the back of his head and tipped it back down again. 

“Listen to your sister, Pace.” She pressed a warm kiss to his rain-soaked lips, then licked water off his chin. Pacey groaned, deep in his throat, and she giggled again. Stepping back, she took his uninjured hand in hers and started pulling him toward the back door. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s go finish your shift.” 

“And then?”

She fluttered her eyelashes at him over her shoulder. “Then you can take me somewhere we can be alone.”

Joey took over for Gretchen as a server, while she helped him in the kitchen. Pacey had been floating on cloud nine all afternoon, the pain in his face and hand forgotten. 

“Those ibuprofen really kicked in, huh?” Gretchen teased him as he hummed a Pearl Jam song to himself while compiling a BBQ bacon cheeseburger. 

“Sure they weren’t ecstasy tabs?” he asked. “Because I’m feeling pretty fucking ecstatic right now.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” She laughed at his broad smile. “She seems like a really nice girl, Pace.”

“She is. You two are going to get along great.”

“Uh huh. I’m starting to think that we need to change our Boston plans, though. At least our living conditions, since I’m not sure I want to be the third wheel on this particular tricycle.”

“Gretchen, you’d never be--no, wait, you’re right. Piss off.” She punched him in the arm, and he chuckled. “Seriously. You need a place. We’ll make it work.”

“You may not need to. You remember my friend Billie from high school?”

“The gap-toothed blond?”

“Who’re you calling gap-toothed, you little punk?” Gretchen retorted. “You’re just asking me to pull out the old family photo albums and show Joey those pictures of you with both front teeth missing.”

“That’d better not be an exaggeration, because I am ready to see that.” They both turned to see Joey walk into the kitchen, eyes bright. “How old were you?”

“Six when he lost them. Eight when the adult ones grew in.”

“Damn. That’s a long time.”

Pacey shrugged. “I was an ugly kid.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Gretchen responded. “You’re still ugly.” 

“Thanks, sis.”

Joey narrowed her eyes at Gretchen as she walked up behind Pacey and wrapped her arms protectively around his waist, resting her cheek against his shoulder blade. 

“Anyway,” Gretchen continued, quietly amused by Joey’s death glare. She barely knew this woman, but she liked how defensive she already was of Pacey. He needed someone like that in his corner. “Billie’s living in Portland, and she always said I should go visit her, so I’m thinking maybe I’ll head in that direction instead.”

“Portland, Maine?” Pacey asked.

“No, lame-o. Oregon.”

“What? What about Boston?” He felt Joey’s body tense against his back. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet about their plans. “You’re just going to abandon me there?”

“Oh, please. Like you need me.”

“I always need you.”

“Aww.” Gretchen placed her hand over her heart and rolled her eyes. “Boston’s a little too close to Hartford for my liking. I’d like to go a bit further, make a clean start.”

Pacey nodded, understanding. “And it makes you a lot harder to track down.”

She shrugged. “Something like that.” She smiled at Joey, whose arms were still wrapped around Pacey’s waist. “I’m wiped out, and since Joey’s here now, I’m heading over to Doug’s.”

“Enjoy that. Say hi for me.”

“I will. Joey, it was nice meeting you,” she added. “Although I have to say, Pace, you really undersold it when you told me how pretty she was.” 

His jaw dropped. “I did not!” he protested as Joey looked up at him with her eyebrows raised.

“I believe his exact words were  _ She’s so beautiful that when you look at her, your knees tremble, your heart melts, and you know right then and there, without reservation, that there is order and meaning to the universe _ ,” Gretchen said, recalling the words he’d told her yesterday over lunch, enjoying the delight on Joey’s face almost as much as the embarrassment on Pacey’s.

Joey tilted her head to look at Pacey. “You really said that about me?” 

“Something along those lines, yeah,” he admitted, his face flushed red. “And I meant every word of it.”

“I know you did.” She stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. “Because that’s exactly how I feel when I look at you.”

Gretchen rolled her eyes. “And with that, I’m outta here. Try not to distract him too much, Joey. Nobody out there wants to end up with a finger in their fries.”

Joey kissed Pacey’s neck. “Noted.”

Gretchen left, and Pacey turned around so they were facing each other. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. What’s all this about Boston?”

“Oh. Well, Gretchen just broke up with her boyfriend, and since I was already planning on moving to Boston, she thought she might come with me. Only now I guess she’s changed her mind.” 

Joey bit her lip and pulled back, letting her arms drop to her sides. 

Pacey frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“You were planning on moving to Boston?” she asked.

He nodded, fear trickling through his heart at her obvious disappointment. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It’s not what  _ you _ wanted.”

“Well, no, but I thought about what you said, and I realised you were right. I can’t stay here forever. And I don’t really want to.” He grinned. “I want to be wherever you are.”

She smiled gently. “In that case, it would be a really stupid idea to move to Boston, considering I don’t plan on being there.” 

Pacey frowned. “You don’t?”

She shook her head. “Y’know, it’s been a big day for me today, Pace.” She went to the pass and picked up the order slip that Amber had just dropped off. “I quit my job this afternoon. I packed my bags and moved out of my apartment. Well, it wasn’t really  _ my  _ apartment. That was the problem. But I have quite a lot of stuff, and no offence, but your boat is the size of a thumbtack. Besides, can you really live on a boat all winter? I don’t think that’s very practical.”

“We don’t have to live on my boat.”

“Believe me, I don’t intend to. Not unless we’re sailing to the Caribbean or something.”

He grinned. “You’d go sailing with me?”

She smiled softly back at him. “Do you even have to ask?”

Pacey’s head swam with excitement and anticipation. “Honestly, Jo, I don’t care where we go, or what we do, as long as we’re together.”

“What if we don’t go anywhere?” She lifted her chin and looked at him. “What if I asked you to stay?”

He frowned. “Stay here?”

“Yeah. Because there’s one more thing I did today, and it’s kind of a big one. I bought a house.” 

Pacey’s heart was racing, leaping, doing backflips. “You did  _ what _ ?”

“I bought a house.”

“Here? In Capeside?”

“Yes. Technically it’s not mine yet, but they’ve accepted my offer. There’s a catch,” she warned him, holding up one hand with her index finger raised. “It’s a real fixer-upper. It’ll take a lot of work, and it’s a big risk. I mean, I upended my entire life and I don’t even know if it’s going to work out. What if I realise later on that I hate it?”

“Then you sell up and you move on. It’s just a house, Joey.” He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing her fingers. He couldn’t breathe. Was this real? 

“It’s not just--”

“I know.” 

“It’s a symbol.”

“Yeah, I got that too. I’m not as dumb as I look, you know.” 

Joey reached over and brushed his hair back with her fingers. Pacey half-closed his eyes, revelling in how good it felt. “You’re not stupid, Pacey. I would never fall in love with an idiot.”

His face lit up. “You’re in love me, huh?”

She shrugged. “Well, I’m thinking about it.” 

Pacey grinned at her. “Where exactly is this house of yours?” he asked. “Near Bessie?”

“Kind of.” Joey leaned in closer, her lips against his ear as she whispered. “You remember that night we went skinny dipping?”

Pacey’s jaw dropped. “The beach house? You bought the beach house?”

She pulled back, her brows knit together anxiously. “Is that okay?”

He broke into the biggest smile of his life as he flung his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around, loving the way she felt in his arms, the sound of her laughter, the brush of her hair against his face, the tight grip of her arms around his shoulders. 

“It’s more than okay. It’s perfect. I love that house. I used to live in that house. I had the best time of my life in that house.”

She smiled so wide that her nose scrunched up and he could see all her teeth. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He set her down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Really and truly. And madly  _ and  _ deeply,” he added, punctuating each word with a kiss on her beautiful face. 

Joey beamed at him, her heart suffused with love for this amazing man. Maybe she did believe in soulmates, after all. There really was no other reasonable explanation for how it had all fallen into place. There were bound to be rocky paths ahead -- nobody’s life or relationship was ever perfect, but this felt right in a way that nothing in her life ever had before, not since her mother died, rupturing her existence. Finally, everything felt as if it had settled back into place, and all it took was letting go of everything she’d thought she wanted. 

She kissed him back, delighting in the feel of his lips, his tongue, the deep rumbling in his throat, the gentle scratch of his stubbled cheek.

“I love you, Pacey. I don't care how hard it’s going to be. I think we can make this work, if we’re both willing to try.”

“I love you too,” he said, cupping her face in his hands as she grinned up at him, wider than ever before, her eyes sparkling with delight. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making her as happy as she was in that moment. He’d probably fail, but by god, he was going to try. 

“What if you change your mind?”

“Then we sell the house and run away together on your sailboat.” 

Pacey cupped her face in his hands and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I'm starting to like this plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I had to end with a rain kiss, because they never got one in canon. I was going to have them dancing in the rain, because that is canon for JJ/KH, but it didn't really fit so I'll save it for another time. Because knowing me I'm going to end up writing a sequel to this sometime. In fact, I might have already started. I have one scene I cannot wait to share with y'all!
> 
> But for now, I've run out of lyrics from 'Sparks Fly' to quote at the start of the chapters so...that's all, folks! Thank you so much for your support and your lovely comments, it's so encouraging to have people enthusiastic about this story and to get such instant feedback, it's very motivating so thank you very very much. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Ngā mihi nui, warmest wishes.


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